


Old Friends

by Silver_Eyed_Dreamer



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cassandra and Tim are a surprisingly powerful duo, Chemistry, Cussing, Drug Dealing, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Jason-Centric, Just major canon divergence, Kidnapping, M/M, Missions, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other tags to be added, Other various D.C. Villains, Testing - Freeform, Tim needs a hug, Tim-centric, Torture, batfamily, influence comes mostly from the Arkham games, lot of sibling bonding, so does Jason, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-16 01:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 44,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Eyed_Dreamer/pseuds/Silver_Eyed_Dreamer
Summary: A friend is someone you love and who loves you, someone you respect and who respects you, someone whom you trust and who trusts you. A friend is honest and makes you want to be honest, too. A friend is loyal...He thought he had friends. How wrong he was when he saw his...Replacement.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since I saw the holographic monument to Jason in the Young Justice hall, I thought “I want a conflict between Tim, Nightwing, and Red Hood!” and this is how I imagined it. I also wanted my favorite DC character (Tim) to get more spotlight than he did in the show, because let’s be honest, he was just...there.  
> In this story (set one year after season 2 of YJ), Barbara is now Oracle and Cassandra is Batgirl because, to be blunt, I like Cassandra Batgirl more (not that Barbara wasn't awesome).  
> To avoid confusion, Wonder Girl is “Cassie,” and Cassandra is, well, “Cassandra.” With the occasional “Cain.”  
> Also, I'm still relatively knew to the DC comics. I only started reading them recently. I don't know that much about Red Hood outside of the "under the Red Hood” comic and a few Batman comics. Most of my knowledge comes from the Batman games, Wikipedia and the YJ show, so if something seems out of place, and if anyone is too ooc (which is inevitable), let me know

Tim was going through the mission plan.

Again.

The bright blue hologram that emitted faintly from his gauntlet reflected of his face, turning his messy black hair into a metallic gray and his blue eyes an electric silver. He didn't have to worry about keeping his identity, not in his own room. His Robin costume was strung carelessly on the bed the black and red uniform wrinkled into a shapeless blob that nearly camouflaged into his black bedspread. He was sitting at his desk, his feet crossed in his lap instead of resting on the floor. His ankles and feet were resting on the matching wooden chair while his knees hovered in the air beside him, knocking against the inner part of the desk. It was a habit of his he developed after months of learning how to properly meditate, and it was one that he would not break soon.  
So he let the habit be. Sitting crosslegged in a chair, while looking at the plan.

Again.

It had been a week since Kaldur had advised the group about the upcoming mission, and Tim was the only one of the assigned team members that had looked at it more than twice already.  
He couldn’t help it. It was in his nature. Always be cautious, always be prepared, have a backup plan for the backup plan.

It made Tim...well, Tim.

“Ok, so the drug trafficking is in the alley near Carrie street, and supposedly happens between 4 and 5 o’clock in the morning. The team is me, Beast Boy, and Impulse. What I could do is send in Beast Boy as a small animal. A pigeon… yeah, probably the best for a city mission. God knows those birds are everywhere.”

As he muttered out his plans, thin pale fingers swiping each blue slide and onto the next, he failed to notice the shift in the corner of the room.  
The infiltrator wore all black, making them near invisible in the shadowed corner of the dark room. They would be completely unseen, except for the traces of yellow that covered their chest and waist, yet the long shadowy cloak was able to cover her entire body, if they managed to stay still. Their face was hidden by a mask, only their smile, a small, mischievous one that showed little of the bright white teeth, and with one side higher than the other. But as the infiltrator stepped closer to its target, their oiled leather boots silent against the floor, the smile slowly grew into on big grin, stretching ear to ear. They stepped carefully, pressing lightly on the floor to keep them agile and more silent.  
Tim would have noticed this, had he not felt a sense of security in his room.  
Apparently, it is a false sense for the young vigilante as the trespasser’s cloak shifted and slowly lifted their arms, the black gloves reflecting the blue hologram’s light. The hands were tensed, the fingers poised to grab.

Suddenly, Tim felt a firm grip on his shoulders, and he jumped.

Literally.

His chair fell to the side with a loud thud as he jumped to his feet. He grabbed one of his attacker’s hands with both of his, and used all of his strength to pull. He felt his attacker slip along the floor with his force, and he jarred his hips against the opponents. This threw off their balance even more. With surprising strength, he bent over and pulled again. He felt the adversary lift off the ground, and he flipped them over his hip as soon as he heard them shout “Tim!”, followed by a whoosh of air leaving their body.

He recognized that voice. A voice that was feminine, silvery yet rough as well. A voice that he could recognize instantly, despite it hardly ever being used.

“Cassandra?!”

The attacker - CASSANDRA, panted, trying to catch their - HER breath. She sat up, grunting in pain as her spine ached from the attack. She lifted her cowl, revealing her face to her old friend.  
Her features had a round, almost childish look to them. Her small petite nose flared as she smiled, her teeth shining in contrast to her tan skin. Her doe brown eyes flashed with laughter that she couldn’t portray with words. Her short raven hair tickled the tips of her ears, the strands bouncing with her body shaking from laughter.  
Tim couldn’t help but sigh at her behavior.

“Cassandra, what’re you doing here?!” It didn't take much intelligence to tell that he was annoyed. Tim held out his hand, which the Batgirl gladly took. She acted perfectly fine, not like she was just thrown onto the floor.

Tim couldn’t help but admire her endurance.

But nevertheless, he still tensed at seeing the massive bruise on her cheek, still swelling and turning a darker shade of purple.

“Cassandra, what happened?” He asked her. He reached up and gently tapped the bruise. She didn’t even flinch.

Once again, Tim couldn’t help but admire.

Cassandra gently lifted her hands, and struck her right palm with her left fist. It made a small thudding sound. Then, both index fingers pointed, starting near her chest, and moved them forwards. She altered them again, with three fingers draped over her thumb, and placed them on her chest.

“ _Got hit during the morning's mission.”_

Tim understood. He extended the index fingers of both of his hands, and brought them towards each other twice with a jabbing motion.

“ _Hurt_?”

She just shook her head no.

Due to Cassandra’s inability to speak, hardly anyone could understand her. Even though M’gann managed to rewire her brain into understanding “language,” and now being able to read, she still had trouble speaking and understanding others with their slang and different tones. She could understand Tim and Dick, but only barely with just basic sentences. So she still had to rely on her ability to read other people’s body language, which lead to her learning too much about others personal lives. Many a times it lead to a miscommunication, and sometimes an injury during a mission.  
So Barbara came up with a solution. Using her ability to understand the body, as well as her new ability to read, she tried to teach her how to use sign language.

Cassandra, at first, was not interested at all, and just ignored the former Batgirl's teachings. Barbara gave up trying to teach the former assassin, but Tim saw it it as an effective way for her to talk to others, as well as to avoid moments with strangers if they tried to strike up a conversation with her.

He also saw it as an opportunity for him to bond with his sister.

So he forced her to keep up with the teachings, earning a few bruises from the frustrated mute. But nevertheless, Cassandra began to enjoy meeting with her brother, and the two began to talk with each other more often.  It was still a work in progress, what with Cassandra still learning (somewhat reluctantly), Tim and Dick trying to convince the rest of the team to learn, as well as still learning themselves.

But at least it was progress.

“ _Why are you here? I thought you and the team would still be recovering.”_

_“I did say this morning’s mission.”_

Tim paused, his face forming into one of exhaustion as he let out a long sigh.

“ _What time is it?_ ” He gestured.

“ _Two in the morning._ ”

He groaned.

“ _Again. Why didn't anyone tell me?”_

_“Because, last I checked, they're not your mom.”_

Cassandra, even though she wasn't able to express it with words, was very sassy in nature.  
And Tim didn't know if it was a curse or a blessing to know her this well.

“ _Why are you still up?”_

_“Because, since I train at night with Dick, I decided to be the mom.”_

Tim smiled.

“ _Thanks, mom._ ”

She silently laughed again.

There was a pause, one that could be either registered as an awkward silence or a peaceful one.

“ _Have to go. You need rest.”_

_“Okay. Night”_

Cassandra walked past Tim, her arm brushing lightly against his. The leather felt smooth against his skin for that one second of contact, and he could faintly smell the sweat from her training.

To most, such a smell would send others recoiling in disgust. But to Tim, it was a smell that brought him comfort. It was a scent that reminded him of the family that he and Cassandra were now a part of.

  
The door opened with a metallic whir, and closed with the same sound.

Tim smiled again, and simply fell onto the bed with a flop. He was asleep instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment=luv! Let me know if anything seems off or ooc.
> 
> Luv you all!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just felt like the first chapter wasn't enough to make the story interesting, so I'm showing off this one.

The night was dark, a small mist dampening the walls and streets. It made them harshly reflect the light of the lampposts that decorated the sidewalks. People walked underneath these lampposts, a few already pulling out their umbrellas in preparation for a possible rain.  
But one was avoiding the lights, clutching to the shadowed patches that hung near the alley entryways. He wore an orange hoodie, one that was tattered and faded. His jeans were tattered as well, the fabric horribly torn at the knees and ankles. Same with his shoes, which were a murky brown from use, his toes revealed to the weather.  
His expression was glowing with anxiety and paranoia, his youthful face aged with worry lines, dark circles and chewed lips.  
He kept on looking over his shoulder, his pace quickening with every step.  
Yet even though he stuck out like a sore thumb, not a single person batted an eye at him. They have already labeled him as a homeless junkie, not even turning to look at him and properly think.

Their assumptions were only strengthened as he slid into a dark alleyway.

It was a small area, the width only big enough to accommodate two people walking shoulder to shoulder. Many patches of grime, urine, and trash littered the cemented ground, and a few people were lying down, either trying and failing to sleep or passed out by other means.  
The man stepped around them, his shoes tearing against the ground. Other than the groans of the homeless, only his heavy breathing and sharp steps were to be heard.  
He continued to walk. His pace continued to grow faster.  
He didn’t know when, but he began to hear another set of footsteps. They were heavier than his, and they clamped against the ground.  
He stopped walking, and the other steps went silent.  
He walked again, and the steps began again.  
He placed his hand in the pocket of his hoodie, and wrapped it around the wooden handle of his knife.  
He stopped. The steps stopped. His pulse quickened.  
He spun around, his hand swinging with momentum. He didn’t care if it killed or not.  
The knife only hit air, but his wrist collided with something.

A hand, gloved and strong.

He felt the fingers wrap around his wrist, squeezing down into his skin and bone. He felt his grip on the knife slacken, the wooden handle sliding roughly down his palm and clanging onto the ground.  
But he didn’t care about the knife, he was too terrified of his attacker.  
The person was wearing clothes like him. Jeans, a gray hoodie, and shoes, but less worn, a much darker color, and more new than his. But what stood out was the helmet. It covered his entire head, from the tip of his chin to the back of his head, and look to be as smooth as marble.

It was a bright red. Just like the hood.

“Hey. Jerry, right? Old customer?”

The man, Jerry, tried to shake himself out of his attacker’s grip. Fear coursed through his brain along with the adrenaline in his body, but he could still feel the pain.  
He felt the pain in his wrist. He felt the pain in his spine as the attacker kicked his legs out from under him and he fell to the ground.  
He wanted to cry out in pain, but he knew that doing so would only get attention, mostly likely unwanted.

“You were at the last drug trading, if I remember. Wanted some more of the joy-powder. Can’t blame you, it’s good stuff.”

Jerry did not say anything. The attacker rolled him over onto his stomach, and stomped down onto one of his shoulders. The foot grinded against his bone, but he wasn’t scared of that.  
He was scared of his attacker was twisting his shoulder in a way that it shouldn’t.

“Yeah, you were there. And, if memory is correct, you were also the only one to leave the trading.”

The attacker twisted. Jerry whimpered.

“None of my traders, none of the other junkies, just you.”

He twisted more. Jerry could feel tears build in the corners of his eyes. He clenched his teeth, the enamel grinding against each other loudly.

“Now, can you tell me WHY you were the only one to get out?”

He didn’t answer. The attacker twisted, and there was a nauseating crack that reverberated down the alley..

Now he cried out in pain.

“Come on, man. You gotta remember. It happened only a week ago. The shit can’t have screwed up your mind THAT badly yet.” The attacker droned on, grabbing the other hand and twisting it into the same painful position.

“Did the police find out?”

Twist.

“Was it a rival drug trader?”

Twist.

“Was it a superhero.”

Just one more-

“It was the fucking birdboy!” Jerry shouted, literally crying out the words and choking on his own sobs.

The attacker relaxed his grip. Then he let out a small huff of laughter. Jerry could feel his body want to curl inward in fear. That was not a normal laugh. A laugh is usually one that is filled with ecstasy. This one was stuffed with sadistic desires that only an insane man could have.

“You mean Nightwing? Dude, you gotta try better than that. He works in Bludhaven, dumbass. That’s seventeen fucking miles away-”

“No! No not that one! The one that works with the Bat! The little red one with the shitty mask! He was out on patrol, and he took your guys out. The police arrived soon after!”

The attacker was confused. His grip loosened again, and Jerry sighed in relief.

“Robin?”

“Yeah, that one! He came from the shadows, took them out all stealth like and kept the buyers in line.”

The attacker let go of Jerry’s hand, and he instantly moved to a sitting position, cradling his dislocated arm like a child. He was crying, the tears riding down his cheek unevenly.

The man made no noise, only staring at his feet with a face covered by his mask. The others in the alley have left, leaving only them there. It would have been silent, had it not been for his crying.

And the sharp metallic click.

Jerry looked up, only to see a gaping hole stare at him, pitch black and terrifying. But he feared the attacker’s words more.

“Thanks for the info.”

Jerry didn't even hear the gunshot, for the bullet was already through his head.

There was silence. Nothing moved except for the steam that exuded from the barrel, crawling to the sky and dissipating into the mist. The man stepped over the body, and was walking away from his crime, when he heard a voice.

“Well, there goes another customer.”

The voice was like silver. The words seemed to be spoken with little effort, but were still clear, light, and pleasant to listen to. The voice came from above, hiding in the rooftops. He quickly looked up, along with the barrel loaded and ready to take down another, but he lowered it back down when he saw the face of the voice.  
It was a woman, staring down at him. Her body was sitting on the roof ledge, her muscular legs dangling over the edge. Her feet bounced against the brick wall, the black boots leaving a scuffing noise in the air.  
She looked like an average woman, wearing a pair of athletic leggings that clung to her muscles. Her shirt was the opposite. It was big, with a sleeve hanging slightly off of one shoulder and the white color sticking out against the night sky. She wore gloves that reached up to her elbows, covering her slender arms and hands.  
Her fingers were long and thin, and moved swiftly as they played with her hair. Her hair was long, reaching down to the tips of her shoulders. It was a murky brown, a color that most found ugly, with a single blue streak tucked behind her right ear. It framed her long and menacing face, and her dark brown eyes seemed more lifeless as she stared at the man with what could only be described as disappointment. Her thin nose was set above a matching pair of thin lips, pressed tightly in concern.  
A patch of skin, red, scarred and veined rested underneath her left eye.  
A burn.

“Hey Zero.” The man sounded both relieved, and annoyed.

The woman, Zero, nodded and leapt down, her hands gripping the ledge. With a skill that would take years to master, she leapt from window ledge to ledge until she was down on the road, facing the man. She was relaxed, not afraid of the weapon in his hand.

“Red, why?” Was all she said. She placed her fingers on the bridge of her nose, her nails digging into the fragile skin. The red marks around her nose stated that she did this often.

“Aw come on, you know that he would only be a liability. Who knows if he would have gone and told a hero or something, or-”

“We know that's not it. I heard the conversation. About _the fucking bird boy._ The _little red one.”_

The man stayed quiet.

Zero shifted her weight from foot to foot, her hips moving along with the momentum. She felt uncertain about what she should say.

“Red Hood, as your partner, I need you to listen to me. I know it's-”

“That fucker already got a replacement. How long did it take? A month? A week?” The man, Red Hood, muttered.

“Red, that life's behind you n-” Zero began, but was shoved back by her partner. She didn't expect such force, and stumbled back as the Red Hood turned right and began hitting the wall with his fist.

Repeatedly.

“A replacement! And so fucking soon! Did he forget about me so quickly after my death, and thought it would be just fine to bring another down this road to hell?! And the original is fine with it too! He was against me being Robin, but now he's just fine with it! Guess he really did hate me-”

“Todd!”

He turned to see a hand, one curled into a fist with a shiny brass knuckle as jewelry, hit him square in the jaw. It didn't hurt, thanks to his helmet, but it did break him out of his temper. He looked to see Zero staring at him, her eyes sparking with an anger that could light a fire.

“Red, you ripped your gloves again.”

He looked down at his hand to see that he did rip through the glove, his knuckles bleeding through ripped skin. He began to feel the sting soon afterwards, but he didn't notice it.

He's felt worse pain before.

“Sorry, Zero. I'll buy new ones.” Was all he muttered, the words almost disappearing into the air.  
Zero said nothing, and instead hugged him.  
Hood could feel her body heat melt into his clothes, and he melted along with it. While he didn't hug her back, she could feel that he was comforted by this.  
If a stranger were to see these two, their subconscious would immediately answer with the word “couple,” but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. While the two share many secrets with each other, and rely on the other more than anything, their relationship is dysfunctional, if anything at all.  
The hug didn't last long, and when Zero let go she saw Hood searching through his pockets, pulling out a small cardboard packet filled halfway with cheap cigarettes that probably came from a nearby street vendor. Pulling one out, he unlocked the lower half of his helmet to reveal a mouth, marred with scars and torn lips. His bottom lip was severely chapped, implying that he bit on it constantly.  
He held out the cigarette to Zero, which she glared at. Nevertheless, she pulled out her lighter. With one flick, the roll of tobacco was lit and in between Hood’s damaged lips.

“You know those kill you.”

Zero could feel the glare through the mask.

“Really? And after all my near-death experiences, you worry about cigarettes.”

Zero ignored the comment, and turned to leave.

“Cmon, let's go, before the fuzz gets the report about the gunshot.”

But Hood’s strong, gloved hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“I just want to ask…”

He turned to look at the body behind him.

“What's the likelihood that a Robin will investigate a murder?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you met my OC! Meet Zero! She's in this, because I mean for her to be a sort of bridge. She is not meant in any way to be a relationship with Jason. She will be explained further, but for now, this is all you get of her.
> 
> "Bridge for what," you ask?
> 
> Well you'll have to find out.
> 
> Let me know if anything seems wrong or too ooc.
> 
> And as always,
> 
> Luv you all!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh....so tired...only got 3 hours of sleep last night...but I wanna update... just have to.... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Tim felt his feet fly into the air as Kaldur kicked them out from underneath him. Immediately he prepared to land on his hands, like Dick had taught him, but he didn't expect an elbow to fall down on his back and shove him to the ground. His chest slammed against the floor in a loud thud, and he could hear the buzz as the training program removed five points off of his score.  
Kaldur removed his arm from his back, and held out a hand for the boy wonder.

“You need a lot of practice. I'm used to Nightwing’s fighting style, which is very different from yours.”

“Well, unlike him, I didn't do acrobatics at the age of five.” Tim wheezed out, taking the offered hand.

This released a chuckle from Kaldur as he pulled up the boy with surprising speed. “I guess not. How long have you been Robin? Two years?”

“Three.”

“Ah.”

Tim prepared his stance, and crouched down, waiting for Kaldur to start another sparring session, but all Kaldur did was cross his arms and shake his head no, a smile still evident in his features.

“That’s enough fighting with me today. You’ll need some energy to practice with Dick later.”

“I can take a few more punches.”

“True, but if you’re too tired for Dick’s training this afternoon, then you know he’ll punish you. Most likely a sparring session with Cassandra.”

Kaldur tried to suppress another laugh as Tim’s eyes widened in fear. Kaldur couldn’t blame him. Everyone knew that Cassandra was the best fighter in the entire group. She has physically beaten every single member, including Superboy, and held her own against Black Canary for a full half hour.  
She still holds that record, no matter how many times Conner tries to beat it.  
The many bruises he got from Canary were proof.

“I’m gonna get some water.” Tim blurted out, trying to avoid Kaldur’s humorous gaze. Kaldur, feeling the dryness of his skin, agreed that he needed to hydrate as well.  
Both sat on the bench of the training room and drank, the sound of crackling plastic and gulping the only noise that could be heard.

“If you don't mind my asking, why did you become Robin? It was a very sudden change for the team, especially because we were still searching for…” Kaldur decided to stop there.  
The silence from Tim only encouraged the thought that the subject would be best left untouched.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. As a fellow team member, I respect your want of-”

“No, it's fine, really. What happened was… after Jason went missing, Batman started his search for my predecessor. And that's it. He only looked for the missing Robin, not caring about any of the crime in the streets. The worst part was that they took notice. Crime somehow became more rampant in Gotham. Dick and Barbara were overworked, getting as much as three hours of sleep per week.”

Kaldur was appalled at that. “Only three? How is it possible for them to function with so little?”

Tim chuckled. “Let's just say, I could stuff a mattress with their Starbucks receipts.”

For a short while, there was silence before Tim spoke again.

“Anyway, so crime began to grow, and Batman took no notice. But when the Joker released the footage...The footage of Jason torn...beaten…and finally blown up, Batman changed. He started becoming more aggressive than normal, sending criminals in body casts. I realized the importance of Robin to Batman, and I decided to take action.”

“And that's how you became the third Robin?”

“Not exactly. See, what I did was go to Dick and tell him about Batman’s deteriorating mindset, and-”

“Wait. You knew Dick was Nightwing?”

“Yeah. Figured it out when I was nine.

“...You are a truly intelligent child.”

This elicited a smile from the third boy wonder.

“Thanks. Dick listened, but instead he went to help as Nightwing, when Batman really needed a Robin at his side. They ended up getting captured by Two-Face and, since no one else would help them, I took the Robin costume and saved them.”

Aqualad released a breath of laughter at this.

“So, essentially, you stole the Robin costume and he let you keep it.”

Tim laughed at that. “Pretty much.”

But his smile quickly fell.

“He made me go through even more training. Took me another year to finally be sanctioned as the third Robin. And even after that, he called me Jason for another eight months.”

Kaldur’s smile faded too. Another long silence pervaded the room. It stayed, grasping tightly until the voice of the computer finally made it let go.

“ _Robin B20, please come to the main hall for debriefing on mission_.” It ordered, the feminine voice leaving behind an echo.  
Kaldur stood up and stretched, bones popping loudly.

“Well, I should de you at another time, Robin.”

“Bye.” Was all Tim said as Aqualad walked to the showers. He sat there for awhile before he tossed away the now empty bottle and ran to his new destination. Even though he had run through the rebuilt Mount Justice, he still had to think at every turn to make sure he did not lose himself in the new base.  
Tim reached the main hall without problems, and waiting for him was Nightwing and, shockingly, Batman. Tim stopped in his tracks at seeing his mentor. Usually it wasn't a good thing if Batman had to personally visit. Was there something wrong? Did he do something wrong? He could feel his heart begin to once again pump faster as fear coursed through him.  
But his fear was soon calmed as Nightwing faced him with a smile and waved.

“Hey, Tim. How're you?” Dick asked in a cheerful voice.

“I'm doing fine. You needed to debrief me on something? Is it about the upcoming mission?”

It was Batman’s dark and grating voice, one that was turned only darker by the modulator that hung around his throat, that answered.

“It is. You're being assigned to a different mission.”

It took a moment for Tim to process this. A moment that Batman used to pull up the details of the new mission.

“A murder was committed about four days ago. The victim was a man that went by the name of Jerry Herkins. A drug addict, according to the blood tests. He is also considered to be homeless, due to the clothing and hygiene of the body. We believe that he may have a connection to the drug cartel that has taken over Gotham lately. We want you to investigate this, see if you can find anymore clues about who is in charge, or maybe the location of the main headquarters.”

“Why me?” Tim blurted out.

“Because you have detective skills that would put Sherlock to shame.” Nightwing answered. Batman ing ores his oldest son’s comment, and turned to face his youngest.

“Blue Beetle will join you on this. It is in case any other thugs should come by to try and pick up any evidence that they might've left.”

“Ok.” Was all Tim said. In truth, he was dissatisfied with the transfer. He has already done so many missions that have had little to no risk in them. He could tell from the beginning of his Robin career that he was given the easy missions. At first he was perfectly fine with his mentor’s choices, but it didn't take much for him to see a pattern. During the Reach invasion, he was given more daring missions, and he was hoping that it was because his older brother was seeing him as a more reliable partner. But, as soon as Batman returned, the training wheels were put back on for him. It felt degrading to the boy wonder.

But he would never tell his mentor this.

“You and Beetle shall leave tomorrow.”

“Yes sir. I'll go and prepare.”

Batman simply nodded and walked away, his black cape clinging to his body. It was almost like he was gliding. Like an actual bat.  
Tim just looked down at the ground, his black boots contrasting against the white tile.

“Training for tonight can be cancelled if you want.” Dick suggested. Tim looked up to see his brother leaning against the computer, an act that normally would have sent Batman on a rant about “respecting the equipment.” He was still smiling, and most would think he was just being his normal mischievous self, but Tim could recognize the look of pity on his brother’s face.

“No, I need it.”

“You sure? You’ll probably want to rest so you won’t be sore during the mission-”

“It’s not a mission.” Tim interrupted.

Dick’s smile wavered.

“A mission is where we go and save people. Well, are Beetle and I saving anyone tomorrow? No. We’re going to check a corpse and the area it became one.” He spat out, glaring at his shoes.

Dick was surprised by this outburst. Usually Tim was the level-headed one in the group, always the one that would calm down the more aggressive members of the team, like Superboy and La’gaan. And if he wanted others to know of his foul mood, he always would give a remark. Never a retort.

“Actually, I think I’ll skip training.” Tim mumbled, shifting the weight of his cape on his shoulders as he walked past his older brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ........zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
> 
> Ah! I'm awake!
> 
> Anyway, I decided to change Jason's death a bit by combining the game version and comic book version. Jason was kidnapped by the Joker, and was tortured for four months, rather than beaten for one night. He still dies the same way, via explosion. I'll get into the torturing later (that is why this is rated teen, after all) Constructive Criticism is appreciated. Let me know if anything seems off.
> 
> Love you all!
> 
> .........Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being sick on your Spring Break is the worst.  
> 

“Feels good to be on a simple mission again.” Jaime sighed, flying over the buildings with his wings humming in the wind. Tim was behind him, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, using his staff for an extra push if the gap was wider than expected.

“Got to say, hermano, you put Olympic athletes to shame.”

“Thanks.” Tim grunted out as he leapt to a lower rooftop and rolled to avoid injury.  
The two have already checked on the body in the morgue. Aside from the bullet hole in his forehead and the gaping one in the back, the withered heart muscles and the stench that made Beetle shout “Mierda hombre que es asqueroso,” there was literally nothing else. If it wasn’t for the fact that Young Justice was hunting down a drug cartel, they would believe that he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.  
Tim was wondering if they would find anything useful at the sight. He could’ve been just an unlucky junkie, not related to the cartel at all.

“Tipo, how've you been? I haven't been on a mission with you for awhile.” Beetle asked, trying to pass the time. Tim couldn’t blame him. Even though they had taken the closest zeta tube from the mountain to Gotham City, they had been running for an hour already in perpetual silence that could cause even the Batman to shift with uncomfortableness.

“Just fine. Doing a little training, struggling with having a social life, the usual.” He answered.

“What else? Can you give me any details?”

“Um...no. I’ve just been training, and struggling to have a social life. There’s nothing to it.”

There was more to it, he just couldn’t share about it because of Batman paranoia. The older team members may know his identity, but he still wasn’t allowed to tell the newer ones.

“Okay...Who’ve you been training with? If you’re training with others, that is?”

“Mostly with the older members. I’ve been doing night training with Nightwing and Batgirl.”

“Aaaahhhh.” Tim could hear the slyness in his voice, and he looked up to see a smirk etch itself on his partner’s face.

“What?”

“I mean, you’ve been hanging out with Batgirl a lot lately. And you’re currently free…”

Tim didn’t need to hear anymore. It was true that he did break up with Cassie. Many things got in the way. Her brash attitude and his reluctance to share his identity were the catalyst that slowly led to their relationship altering back into a friendship. And he will admit, Cassandra was a beautiful girl with a remarkable personality. And he would not mind dating her, if the opportunity presented itself to it. But he was perfectly happy where their relationship was at. He was enjoying the fact that he was her friend that she could rely on when she was having a dark moment in her life, and the same vice versa.

“The same could be said for you and Bart.”

Even though he couldn’t see Beetle’s actual face, he could imagine the furious blush that was blooming on his cheeks.

“Wh-what are you saying?” He stuttered.

Tim looked down, and saw the yellow police tape that surrounded the area, as well as the white body tape on the cement.

“I’m saying I don’t judge.”

He spread his arms out like a bird (which he found very ironic), and fell over the edge, using the ledges of windows and old fire escapes as a gateway down. Blue Beetle simply flew down, although he took longer as he tried to wrap his mind around the unusual conversation that had just occurred.  
Much like the body, there was hardly anything to investigate. There was the area that the body lay at, the blood splatter on the street that, once sent through the analyzer in Tim’s wrist computer, was confirmed to be the victim’s, and nothing else. There wasn’t even any gun powder that could have spilled out of the gun.

“Well, that was surprisingly simple, hermano. I thought that it would be more, you know, interesante.” Beetle criticized, looking up and seeing that the sun was beginning to creep behind the Gotham buildings.

“You get used to it after awhile. There’s usually not much to it.” Tim advised, turning on the neon light in his gauntlet to see if there were any fingerprints. He found a few hand prints, but they were all confirmed to be the victim’s.

“How many murder cases have you done? I was told that you could merely look at one and figure it out in the next minute.”

“Ever heard of an exaggeration?” Tim began to trace the neon light over the walls of the buildings, finding old handprints that served no purpose, and new ones that were, once again, the victim’s.  
But he stopped when he came across a small chip in the wall. A small one that would have been overlooked by anyone. A chip that looked like many other in the area. But that was not what drew his attention to this particular one.  
It was the strands of black fabric that were caught inside it.  
He lifted his wrist computer and scanned the pieces of fabric. He could feel a grin plaster onto his face as the computer recognized different DNA, and began to search through the database for a match.

“Beetle, I think we may have found our killer.”

“What was that about an exaggeration?” Beetle sneered, another wry smile tugging at his corners.

“I do have to admit, kid, you’re already impressing me.” Said an unknown voice.

Tim felt his body tense, and he turned to see a man standing in the alley. He was dressed like your average biker, jeans, tshirt, combat boots and leather jacket. The only strange thing was the bright red helmet with two white eyes that glared at the two. He was leaning on an old escape ladder, twirling a gun by the trigger in his hand.  
Blue Beetle instantly morphed his hand into his sonic blaster and aimed it at the strange man, but Tim raised his hand to halt him.

“Don’t. In such a small area, you’ll cause the buildings to collapse. The most you can use is your construction gun.” Tim ordered. Beetle, once he realized the fragility of the area they were in, nodded and let his blaster change into his construction gun. Or, as Impulse and Nightwing have come to call it, his “staple gun.”  
The man made no move to attack them, only standing up and placing his gun back in the holster wrapped around his leg.  
His next words confused Tim.

  
“But I just want to say… did he really have to choose a fucking clone as the new one?”

Suddenly, the man charged at the two, his hands now holding a knife the glinted differently than normal steel. He swung downwards at the boy wonder, and Tim could hear the hiss of the knife run past his ear as he stepped to the right, leaning away. Blue Beetle saw this as an opportunity, and launched two staples at the perpetrator. However the man just raised his knife again and cut through them like they were butter. Beetle’s eyes widened and his breath hitched at the fact that the man had a weapon that could cut through alien metal. Only a select few of the Justice League had access to such advanced minerals.

This man had resources.

And that made him even more dangerous.

Beetle launched himself up and was about to fly off, but the grip around his ankle stopped him. He pulled, trying to force the man to let go. The man ignored the boy’s fruitless attempts and began to pull him down.  
Tim saw this as an opportunity, and straightened out his bo staff, attempting to crash it down onto the man’s shoulder. However, without even looking behind him, the man caught the staff with his other hand. He turned to look at the shocked boy wonder, and Tim swore the man was judging him somehow.

“You use a weapon? Well, you are very scrawny for your age. No way you could win with bare fists.”

Tim pressed the button on his staff, and an electrical current of 50,000 volts surged through the metal weapon. Tim smirked as the man gave a satisfying reaction to being shocked, letting go of his weapon and Beetle’s ankle.

“Well, they do say brain beats brawn.” Tim mocked, getting into a more comfortable fighting stance as the man shook his head to clear it of the small shock.

“So it speaks. Good. You were acting too much like him.”

There were many question racing through Tim’s head, yet the most prominent one in his mind was _who is this man?_

“Now, I don’t need to ask, because it’s obvious you’re behind the killing. But why come back now? You barely left a trace.”

The man laughed, sending another wave of confusion through Tim’s head.

“I just wanted to see you. See if you’re worthy of the whole cape and mask.”

 _Great_ , Tim thought, _another one to see if I’m “worthy.”_

“Been there, done that. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Quick to the point as well.”

Tim jabbed his staff at the man’s stomach, with which he leapt back to dodge. Tim sliced his staff down until it hit the ground, and leapt up, using the staff as extra momentum to land a kick right in his opponent’s chest. He heard the knife clatter to the ground, but the man, even though he took the hit, barely flinched. He grabbed the surprised Robin’s foot and flung him to the side. Robin yelled out as he felt his side slam into the brick wall. He felt the man let go of his ankle and grab onto his neck, pressing him against the wall. He was finding it difficult to breath, only claiming small wheezes of air that wasn’t enough to sustain him. His head began to feel fuzzy as he grabbed at the man’s wrist uselessly trying to pull it away.

“Real good to have a double Kevlar vest. Graphene helps too. Absorbs more force than the little agile ones. Not that you gave much to begin with. And it was nice meeting you, but I think I need to go.” the man whispered. Tim looked up to see a curled fist, and raised one of his hands to try and block the attack. He didn’t need to as the man’s hand was caught by a blue staple that locked into the ground. Tim felt the hand leave his throat, and he gasped as the gulps of air reawakened his mind.

“What took you so long? You only flew up” Tim asked as he saw Beetle float down next to him. The human-tech hybrid looked to the right in embarrassment, and mumbled something that Tim had to strain to hear.

“I , uh, hit my head on one of the fire escapes”

Tim resisted the urge to laugh.  
His wrist computer helped as it beeped to let him know that the DNA analysis was complete. Unlocking the device, he watched as the device stated who the DNA belonged to.

What he saw made him gasp.

“Hermano, what is it?” Beetle asked, concerned.

“I, It’s-I” Was all Tim could stammer out.

He couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t. Suddenly, he felt an elbow slam into the back of his head, and he collapsed to the ground. He saw through a haze Beetle raise his arm up to attack, but was stopped when the man placed something on his chest. It glowed a dark read, and a sharp piercing scream escaped Beetle’s throat.  
The scream lasted long enough for Tim to want to cover his ears. Beetle collapsed to the floor, gasping and sobbing as the device on his chest continued to glow.

“A little something I made in my spare time. Malfunctions any alien technology. And, just a little tip from the Red Hood, always carry a spare.” The man, Red Hood, advised as he sheathed a different knife.  
Tim was trying desperately to stay awake, the fog of darkness creeping up in the corners of his vision. He felt a hand grip the neck of his cape and pull him up so that he was sitting on his knees. He looked up to see the Red Hood standing over him, almost like a predator would over prey. Hood raised his fist again, and Tim raised his arms to, once again, try and block it.  
He forgot that the hologram of the DNA results were still up, and he just revealed them to the Hood.

The picture of a boy in his late teens, with pitch black hair and striking green eyes.

_DNA matching sample: Jason Todd._

“Fuck.” Hood whispered out. He quickly released Tim from his grip, and the boy wonder collapsed back to the ground on all fours. He slowly breathed in and out to try and calm his pumping heart. Looking around, he tried to assess his situation, and knew that the odds were against him. Blue Beetle was down, still struggling against the piece of tech that caused him so much pain. There was no one to nearby to serve as a distraction or call the police, and he was barely conscious.

“Fuck fuck fuck this wasn't supposed to happen.” The Red Hood shouted out, breaking Tim’s concentration. He was rubbing his hands over the back of his helmet like a hand through hair. He was pacing back and forth like someone under stress.

Tim tried to stand up, his legs shaking with the effort. His head rushed with blood and pain with every movement, yet he ignored it and prepared to fight. He knew it was fruitless, but he had no other option. He could leave Beetle behind and possibly have his tech used for evil purposes, and even if he did run, the pain in his side and head would only make him collapse again.  
The Hood noticed the boy wonder’s meaningless effort, and Tim swore he heard a small huff of laughter.

“You're a persistent little bastard.”

The Red Hood approached Tim, his boots stamping against the floor and in Tim’s aching head. Tim prepared to punch the Hood with what little strength he had left, but it came out sluggish. He easily dodged the punch. The Hood grabbed a fistful of Tim’s hair, and slammed the boy’s head into the wall.

Tim was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that the Spanish in the show was appalling. He only ever said hermano.  
> And with Bart and Jaime's relationship, it's going to be mostly implied in this fic, because I'm that weird person that does/doesn't ship them.  
> And yes, I got rid of Tim and Cassie's relationship because I don't like this version of Cassie (she was more enjoyable in the Red Robin comics), and that she and Tim literally had no interaction with each other!  
> And, yes while I do like Tim and Cassandra as a pair, I also love them as close friends.  
> Enough said.
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated, let me know if anything seems off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I probably want to say is that this story is entirely un-beta'd. As soon as I finish a chapter, I update the story.

“What the fuck?!”

“Nice to see you're back, Hood. Glad to see you're not dead yet. Glad you're still in one piece, Hood.” Red Hood commented, his voice a higher tone in mockery of his companion.  
Zero ignored him, still shooting daggers out of her eyes at the Hood.  
And the unconscious red-and-black vigilante slung over his shoulder.

“Seriously, though. What the fuck?!”

Hood could feel Robin (or “the replacement,” as he'd come to call him) squirm in his unconscious state, and he shifted the body on his shoulder as he felt it begin to slide away.

“I thought you were just going to fight him, not bring him over for Thanksgiving!” Zero shouted.

“I was!”

“Then why is he slung over your shoulder?!”

Zero’s voice was shrill as she yelled, the noise banging off of the walls of their hideout. Had it not been for his helmet, Hood would have cringed in pain at the high pitch.  
It made the replacement squirm again.

“Look. I'm gonna be blunt and quick about this. One, you're not the boss of me. Two, something happened and a change of plans was needed. Three, he’s waking up, and I need somewhere to put him. Now, do you know where I can put him?”

Zero cocked her hip to the side, crossing her arms. Lifting one hand that was resting on the crook of her elbow, she made the number one with her index.

“One, someone needs to keep an eye on little Red Riding Hood so he doesn't end up killing himself.”

She made the number two.

“Two, you have to tell me about this ‘change of plans.’”

She made the number three.

“Three, there's that bunker room that's behind the main room counter. Take him down there and prop him up on the pillar. I'll be right back.”

Hood nodded in understanding. Zero ran out the door with a burst of speed, with Hood right behind her. Past the room was another, much more vast than the previous. The ceiling reached high above their heads in a triangular arch, painted a dark navy blue with glowing star stickers sprinkled across it.  
The width was surprisingly big, stretching far and seeming so. The walls, although faded and the paper peeling, one could see the design was that of a medieval kingdom.  
The walls were once bright colored castles, with rolling green hills and blue rivers, with the occasional dragon, and were now faded, torn and eroding. One day they would be gone completely.  
Red Hood would be thankful for that day.  
In the center of the room was a square counter, hollow on the inside. The was a gate that led into the hollow, but it was long broken, unable to halt the outlaw.  
Hidden in the corner, right underneath an old plastic folding chair, was a metal hatch, one that used to require a key. But the lock has long since rotted away.  
Although the door was still heavy, especially with one hand. Inside was a staircase that led into shadow long aged by time.  
Hood was about to step into the shadows, when an idea popped into his head. It made him smile underneath his helmet.  
He dropped the replacement from his shoulder, and payed him down at the top of the lowering stairs. With a simple push, the new boy wonder was sent falling down the stairs.  
The many sickening bumps were like music to the outlaw’s ears.  
Flicking on a flashlight hidden in the helmet, he followed the body down the steps, and was pleased to find it in such an uncomfortable position. He poked and prodded him with his foot. He felt no broken bones.

How disappointing.

At the base of the stairs was a light switch that, once flicked on, revealed the barren room that was the bunker. The walls were entirely made of metal that was beginning to spot in the corners with rust. The olive green paint that coated them were peeling off to reveal the hardened steel underneath.  
The one thing that accommodated the room was that one pillar that supported the ceiling, thin enough for Hood to wrap a hand around it.

“Stop gawking and put him near the pillar.” He looked up to see Zero standing at the top, shifting from one foot to another.  
In her hands was rigid metal ring in the shape of the letter U, attached to a crossbar on both points.  
A u-lock.  
Hood picked up the boy and leaned him against the pillar. The replacement’s head peacefully rested on his chest like he had simply fallen asleep.  
It unnerved Hood to no end.  
Zero gently grabbed the boy's hair and pulled his head up until the back collided with the pillar. Being as gentle as she could, she placed the lock around his neck and the pillar, the base of the “U” supporting his neck while the crossbar hid behind the pillar.

“Why does this place even have a bunker?” Hood asked.

“My guess is World War Two and Cold War paranoia.” Zero answered as she twisted the key in the lock.

With a simple click, the replacement was trapped.

But that wasn't enough.

Hood started off by taking the belt, tossing it behind him to Zero, who caught it by surprise. Next was the cape. Then the gauntlets, then the boots.

“Geez, you don't need to strip him of his dignity.” Zero commented.

“No, just his resources.”

“The belt and gauntlets, I understand. The cape and shoes, not so much.”

“The Bat always hides something in those. A hidden tracker or something.”

“And you brought them here?!”

“Relax, they're most likely off. Batsy only turns them on when the birdy doesn't come back home.”

He was having trouble removing the cape because the U-lock was in the way.  
_Probably should have removed the cape first,_ he thought.

“Well, while you're doing that, you can tell me why he is locked up in our fucking hideout!”

Hood sighed again.

“So you know the original plan. Go up and fight him, see if he was good enough, etcetera. Well…”

“Yes?”

“You remember the gloves I tore a few days ago?”

“Yes. The ones I just bought you, I might add.”

“Well, apparently a few strands of the fabric were left behind, and they had a few pieces of my DNA on them.”

“How?”

“Your skin sheds every day. There were probably a few cells on them."

He finally succeeded in removing the cape, and pulled it off the boy. He wrapped the gauntlets and boots in the cape, until it was a bundle that Zero couldn't help but compare to an infant in her head. He began to pace around the room, the bundle held in his hands as Zero's gaze switched between the him and the replacement.

It was a bad habit of his.

“The little brat found the pieces and identified them as my DNA, so he knows. Even if he doesn't know that it's me, he knows that Jason Todd is alive, and the trail would eventually lead back to me. So I brought him here instead. Can't let him go tell the bat."

Zero’s breath hitched in her throat. Hood stopped and spun around, tensed and prepared to attack. What he saw made him tense even more.  
The replacement was conscious, although only half-way. He was staring, half-lidded at Zero, whose eyes were staring back wide.  
The replacement’s blue eyes staring into her brown.

Blue eyes.

_Blue eyes._

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Jason cursed.

But he couldn't do anything. He had learned from his mistakes. All he could do was watch.

The replacement didn't say anything, but only stared. Soon his eyes slowly closed and his head fell down into unconscious once again.  
Zero continued to stare.

“Zero?” Hood whispered.

She did not move.

He walked up to her, only a foot of air between them.

She still did not move.

He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. It seemed to shock her back into the real world, the glazed look in her eyes faded away as they revived with the fast energy of fear.

“Zero-”

“He has blue eyes.” She muttered.

“Zero-”

“He has blue eyes!”

“Calm down-”

“You're not supposed to have blue eyes! They're hideous to look-”

Hood slapped her across the cheek. It echoed off the steel walls. A sharp, quick sound that died off easily.  
The silence that followed was longer, and louder to them.

“I'm sorry.” She whispered, looking at her shoes.

“I'll be back. Just gotta get rid of these.” Was all he said

Zero looked up and stared at her friend. Just stared at him. She had that look on her face that made people currents of caution. But the Red Hood knew where that expression came from. It brought forth waves of empathy instead.  
He was about to head up the stairs when Zero finally spoke again.

“Why didn't you just kill him? That would've fixed the problem.”

Hood was about to retort, when he realized he didn't have anything to say. He just ran up with the bundle and left the building to get rid of it.

Zero lightly chuckled.

“I thought so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue eyes. The story behind them shall be revealed soon. 
> 
> And a lot of old buildings have bunkers, if they've been around long enough. Schools, old two-room theaters, some hotels. At least, where I do they have some.
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated. Let me know if anything seems off.
> 
> Love you all!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to use some medications to help with Spring Break sickness, which made me pretty out of it. I used the opportunity to educate myself on Batman 101 (although I regret watching Batman Forever. Either the writer was on some LSD, or had some sort of neon fetish)
> 
> So yeah, I wrote this while on meds, with little sleep, while delirious. Sorry if it's not the best.

Should he? Or should he not? It was a tough decision…

Screw it. He needed help with this.

Pressing the call button, Dick held the phone to his ear as he listened to the toneless drawl. It rang, and rang, and ranged.

Come on, please pick up. Dick thought. His foot began to tap on the kitchen tile in impatience. M’gann looked at him with concern, her empathic abilities detecting his uneasiness. But she let him be, and continued to try and make popcorn the old-fashioned way, while the others that were on “break,” were in the living room deciding on what b-rated action movie they should sleep through. He sat in the kitchen, trying to make a call that probably won’t be answered. It was taking an eternity! He forgot how long it felt when waiting for a phone call. He was so used to Batman’s and Tim’s quick answering.

He was beginning to zone out, staring off into space as the phone continued on.

Ring…

Ring…

Ring...

He almost sighed in relief when he heard the click.

“ _Hello_?”

“Hey Barb! How’ve you been? I haven’t talked to you in awhile.”

“ _Dick! It’s been so long! I’ve missed you_!”

“I know, I’ve missed you too. It’s been awhile since our last date. It was what? About two months ago?”

“ _Well, the diner we went to nearly got totaled_.”

Dick puckered his lips in mock hurt.

“How was I supposed to know that people were going to try and kidnap us? I can’t help that I’m this gorgeous.”

“ _Yeah, sure. But you're the one that went in costume and started the fire._ ”

“I didn’t know that french fry grease was flammable! And I wouldn’t think an escrima stick would be strong enough to light it anyway.”

“ _Your escrima sticks pack over 50,000 volts_.”

“We got away with it in the end, though.”

“ _You’re lucky you're the son of a billionaire_.”

“Yeah, yeah, I was born under a lucky star. So, what I wanted to call you about was if you could maybe...come over and visit Mount Justice?”

“ _Sure, I can do that. When’s a good time_?”

“...Now?”

“ _Now? Why now? Whatever it is, can it wait_?”

“I don’t know. It has something to do with family.”

“ _Which family_?”

“Bat.”

It took her about five minutes to get there. Nightwing was standing in the zeta room, smiling at his girlfriend as the robotic voice announced Barbara’s presence.

“ _ **Recognized. Oracle B-2-4**_.”

Oracle was dressed messily. Her dark blue jeans had a small hole in her left knee, as well as in her upper right thigh. The light grey shirt she wore contrasted against her oversized china pink jacket that covered her arms. Her black converse shoes were smudged and worn, with one of the shoelaces untied. Her fiery red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, however a few strands managed to fall free and clash in a battle of colors with her silvery-blue eyes that were hidden behind a pair of glasses.

Dick thought she looked beautiful.

“So, what seems to be the bat problem?” She asked.

“Has Tim ever…” Dick trailed off. He scratched the back of his head in discomfort.

“Yes?’”

“Has he ever seemed like he was...holding back?”

“Holding back how?”

“Like he’s wanting to say something, but he decides on keeping it to himself. You know… holding back.”

Barbara’s brow furrowed in frustration as she searched through her memories.

“Well, he’s always seemed like he was trying to be more calculating than the others. Trying to be the logical member of the team, to even out the emotional ones like Conner and Cassie. He doesn't really show his emotions that much, which is surprisingly unusual for a hormone-filled teen. Did anything happen? Is he hiding something?”

“Au contraire, mon coeur. He let me know what he's thinking. Who knew that he was so passive aggressive?”

“What’d he do?”

“He was reassigned to a different mission. Instead of going after the drug cartel, Batman had him go investigate a murder case with Beetle. He didn't like the change, but of course Batman took no notice and left.”

“So...you think we're being too hard in him?” She questioned.

“Exact opposite. I think we're being too soft.”

Barbara leaned back in her wheelchair.

“Explain.”

“Well, the missions we've been giving Tim lately are ones that seem...kinda easy to me. Especially easy when we compare them to the ones he got during the Reach invasion.”

Barbara could put two and two together.

“Well, just give him a more difficult mission. I mean, Batman’s hardly around now with all of those intergalactic missions. He's even on one now.”

“But... if I were to be completely honest with you, I feel like he’s still not ready.”

“Dick, he's been in training to be Robin longer than you have.”

“I know. It's just-”

“Jason.”

There it was. The answer that both wished was not the solution to their problem. They wished that the boy with curly black hair and snarky green eyes was not the answer.

But wishes don't come true.

“Yeah. I'm afraid of it happening again. I mean, all it takes is one misstep, one wrong move from me or Tim, or the perfect timing or planning from a villain and he could-”

Dick couldn't finish his sentence as he felt his voice crack, and he stopped to halt the sobbing that would eventually come. He placed his finger and thumb in the ducts of his eyes, trying to halt the tears before they could begin to flow.  
No one could blame him for crying. It is already painful enough for one to lose a parent or grandparent. But to lose a sibling is worse. One that you are raised with, one that you fight with and protect at the same time. One that understands you and is at the best same time the one that gets under your skin. The one that makes your life an adventure.  
But then, one day, they are gone.  
It is a painful and unhealable wound.  
Dick felt a hand wrap around his, and he looked up to see Barbara’s small, empathetic smile glimmer at him. Gripping her hand tighter, he felt frustration that his gloves stopped him from feeling her skin. He ran a thumb over the back, his fingers curling into her palm.  
He couldn’t help but smile at her too.

“I know, it’s tough. I find it hard too. But it happened, and we can’t change that.”

Dick let out a small chuckle. He kneeled down until he was eye level with her, and placed his forehead on hers. She smiled gently.

“How can you say so much without saying many words?” Dick asked.

“It’s something I developed overtime. You notice that few words can go a long way.” Barbara answered.

They let time pass them again, grateful for the other’s calming presence.

“Actually, you just gave me a good idea.” Dick said, slowly standing back up.

“Really?”

“Yes. Follow me to the main hall.”

Dick normally would have ran, but he settled for jogging as Barbara wheeled behind him, her wheels hissing quietly and groaning loudly against the floor. They wheeled past the living room, where they could hear the sound of guns shooting, people yelling, and a lot of snoring. The smell of popcorn was literally burnt into their nostrils as they passed the kitchen with a little trail of smoke exiting the doorway.  
Barbara had to snicker. She missed the Young Justice League.  
Soon they were in the Main Hall, with the massive computer screen glowing it’s ghostly blue as it waited to be given a command.  
Nightwing’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bringing up the comm links of the entire team. Swiping through the alphabetical members ( _Why is it that everything has to be in alphabetical order? What about numbers, or the Dewey Decimal System?_ Dick thought) until he reached the name Robin, he typed in a few keys until he was satisfied with the result.  
The computer was pending as it tried to receive a signal to call Robin.

“So, are you going to tell me your plan, or leave me in the shadows?” Barbara asked, resting her head in her hand.

“Simple. I’m going to tell him thanks.”

“Ok...and why do you think that will help in any way?”

“Well, Batman hardly ever tells us thanks already. We save his life from a bunch of assassins, and he’ll just grunt and walk away.”

“Yeah, but he’s...Batman.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I’m going to let him know that I appreciate him, and it’ll just go on from there.”

“It is a start, I’ll give you that.”

They waited, watching the dark blue word “pending” flicker in and out of existence. Dick looked over from the corner of his eye, and slipped his hand between Barb’s cheek and hand. She didn’t move it, and he could feel the heat from her face melt into his suit.  
“Pending” soon changed into a flat line, implying that whoever was on the link was waiting for an answer.  
Dick took in a deep breath, ready to talk to his younger brother, when he heard something that normally didn’t pass between the communications link.

He heard breathing.

Very heavy breathing.

“Hello?” Dick said.

The heavy breathing hitched, and Dick thought he heard a few sirens in the background, far off in the distance.

“Robin, are you there?”

Dick and Barbara heard a scraping sound, one that was loud and grating to their ears. It sounded like plastic on concrete, when one scrapes their shoe.

“Nightwing?”

“Beetle?! Why are you on Robin’s comm?! Where’s-”

“H-he-help.” Beetle wheezed out.

“Don’t worry, I’m looking at your location right now. I’m sending Wonder Girl and Bumblebee.” Dick said as he sent the message to the two members. Much quicker than running to the room and telling them. And if they ignored the message the first time, then the notifier on their wrist would give them a small shock. A handy device that Dick invented in his spare time with Tim.

“We were...investigating the area, and… this man came.”

“Man? What did he look like?” Barbara asked.

“Didn’t see...face. Had a red helmet on… Called himself the...Red Hood.”

What Beetle said next brought the pain of fear zapping into Dick’s chest.

“He took Tim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the romance between Dick and Barb isn't too overkill. Let me know if it is!
> 
> Funny thing is, I used to think that Tim and Barb were the canon pairing, because they are dating and eventually marry in the Arkham games. Imagine my shock when I started reading the comics, and I found out the age difference.
> 
> It was something like this: o_o
> 
> Constructive Criticism is appreciated. Let me know if anything seems off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, baby!
> 
> And I just finished this new chapter for all of you!

_“Tim, are you sure about this?” Dick asked his younger brother. Concern was drawn across his features, sketching his lips in a thin line and etching his forehead into lines of worry. He leaned against the locked door, to both rest and to stop Tim from going in there._  
_Tim looked up and smiled, trying to ease Dick’s worry._  
_It didn't work._

_“I think we should just wait.”_

_Tim's smile quickly turned into a frown._

_“Why?”_

_“She's got fear gas in her system! We tried to help her earlier, and she almost broke Bart’s arm! I think we need to wait and let it work it's way out of her system.”_

_“But you always help me in these situations. What’s so different about her?”_

_“Well, for one, your not an assassin that doesn’t even flinch when you get a bullet through the chest!”_

_“She’s still our sister!”_

_Dick opened his mouth for another retort, but as soon as he breathed in to shout at him, there was a scream from the other side of the door. Tim felt an ache begin to sprout in his chest as the scream continued. It nurtured the knowledge of where the scream came from, growing within his entire body and maturing into empathy and pain._

_“PLease?” He begged._

_Dick looked at Tim, trying hard to keep his composure in front of his brother. Many have suffered the effects of Scarecrow’s fear toxin, more times than they could count. And each time was the same. They would try and comfort the victim of the toxin, and if that was unable to help calm them down, keep them in an area of solitude until the toxin wore off._  
_Due to a miscalculation in the numbers of thugs, the team was more occupied with the fighting than the mission. This gave Scarecrow an opportunity to sneak up and try and experiment his new toxin in the form of darts on the unsuspecting heroes. However Cassandra took notice, and shielded her friends from the sneak attack._

_Unfortunately, she made herself the shield._

_Now here they were, reaping the consequences of their careless actions._

_“Please?” Tim begged._

_“...Alright. But I’m going to have to keep the door locked so she doesn’t run out.”_

_Tim could feel his smile grow back on his lips._  
_Dick typed the code for the room, the sharp click as the buttons pressed in the numbers. The door opened with a quiet hiss. The room was in darkness, the never-ending gray interrupted by the light that flooded through the open doorway._  
_Tim stepped through, hearing the echos of his feet slapping on tile. The door closed behind him, and he was lost in the darkness._  
_He felt along the side of the doorway until he felt the light switch, and flicked it up. His pupils contracted from the harsh lighting as the room was turned from a pitch black to a bright gray._  
_The room was bare, the only form of furniture a mattress in the corner. It was like that so the victim wouldn't accidentally damage themselves or others during the fear gas’s process._  
_But even so, Tim couldn't help but compare it to a prison._  
_There was one splash of color in the bleak room, hiding and shivering in the corner._

_Black with a slight tinge of yellow._

_“Cassandra?” Tim whispered out._

_The shivering colors stilled, and they slowly released themselves from their tense position to change from a splash to a person. A girl. Cassandra, hands clenching her dark hair and knees tucked to her chest. The cape was spread underneath her like a mat, the edges wrapped around her feet._  
_Her face had a thin sheen of sweat that glistened in the light. Her brown eyes were dilated, shifting from one corner of the room to the other. They finally rested on Tim, sending the boy wonder’s skin crawling along his bones. But he steeled himself, taking a deep breath._

_“Cass-”_

_Tim was cut short as Cassandra let loose another shriek, and leapt at him._  
_Tim felt the brunt force knock him down, his back and head bouncing off the floor. He cried out as he felt the burn of pain burst in his body, but was cut short as he felt Cassandra straddle his chest, and a pair of leather-clad hands grasp his neck._  
_His throat burned from the lack of air, as he choked and pried at the hands._  
_Cassandra stared down at him, her teeth bared and eyes glaring._

_“Father.” She hissed._

_Tim pulled at her hands again, with little success. He tried to tell his sister her name and that she was alright, but all that came out was a hack and a gasp for air. Black began to crawl around his vision, merging with Cassandra’s suit until he could only see the symbol._

_The bat symbol._

_Tim let go of her hands and reached up. He placed a finger on her chest, just below her collarbone, on the heart of the bat._  
_Cassandra’s body tensed, unexpecting the strange gesture. Tim felt her hands slowly loosen, and he greeted the fresh air with a gasp._  
_Cassandra fell back, hands on her chest where Tim had touched. She closed her eyes as tears began to fall down her cheeks, slowly at first, but grew speed as she let herself go._

 _“Hey, it's alright. You're fine. Nothing's going to happen.” Tim whispered to her, trying to control his breathing. His lungs screamed in protest, but he ignored them as he walked closer._  
_Placing a hand on her shoulder, he slowly enveloped her into a hug as she continued to cry into her hands and his shoulder._

 

***

  
Tim groaned, his head was pounding with pain. He was in darkness, one that did not change when he opened his eyes. He was leaning against a metal pillar. It was already warm, so he knew he had been there for awhile. He tried to turn his head, but the rub of metal on his neck halted his movements. He grabbed at the metal, his fingers curling around it. He pulled at it, but the pipe-like lock would not budge. He tried to stand up, and the lock slid up with him, screeching loudly against the pole. So he could move the lock up and down, it wasn’t attached to the pole. He reached behind the pillar, and felt the back of the lock. He felt a keyhole.  
That’s when he realized that he was missing his belt, gloves, cape, and boots.

“I wouldn’t try it. It’s a bicycle lock. Impossible to break without your tools..” He heard a voice say in the darkness.

His eyes shifted from left to right, searching for where the voice could have come from. He heard a click and he was suddenly blinded. The light was weak, but he still had to squint as he tried to stare at the person sitting on the stairs.

“Who’re you?” He said, trying his best impersonation of a bat-glare.

“I’m Zero.” said the person, not affected by all.

Okay, intimidating doesn’t work, he thought.

“That’s your name?”

“Yeah.”

“Not the most popular name on the baby charts, I might add.”

“Neither is Robin.”

“Touché.”  
  
There was silence. Tim was trying to process what was going on through his head. He was in a basement of some sort, that much he could tell. The lock was virtually indestructable without his tools, and there was a girl sitting on the steps that led up, with the dumbest looking pair of green shades that Tim has ever seen.

“Now that you’re awake, I bet you’re-”

“What kind of sunglasses are those?” Tim interrupted.

“...What?”

“I’ve been in a hostage situation before, already know all the answers, so I just don’t really care. Now seriously, who ripped you off?”

The truth was Tim really did want answers for why he was here. He could theorize that the Red Hood was the killer, that was easy enough. But why would he kidnap him?

And...is he really who Tim thinks he is?

But right now he needed to distract Zero. Throw her off with questions she wouldn’t expect.

“Maybe I just want to see the world in a different color.”

“Yeah, a whole one room and hostage must look completely different when a few shades darker.”

Zero looked down at her shoes, the black boots scuffed gray at the toes. Tim could guess easily that there was another reason for those shades in a low lit room, but it was not an answer he would get.

“So, who’re you? Are you like, Red Hood’s girlfriend or something?”

She laughed. Tim wasn’t expecting a laugh.

“No, we’re not a couple. We tried once, maybe fucked once, but it didn’t really work out between us. Just friends.”

Tim felt uncomfortable at hearing that. He could feel his face and neck heat up.

“Okay…”

She laughed again at the boy wonder’s embarrassed expression as his face turned the same red as his suit.  
But she stilled her laughter. She had to remain focused. She let her enjoyment from toying Robin die off, and replaced it with her true nature.  
Tim noticed the change in her stature, the change in her face, and couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated by her.

“You...know who Red Hood’s true identity is?”

“...Yes.”

“Then help him.”

It took Robin a moment to process what he heard. 

...

...

“What?!”

Zero stood up, removing the ridiculous shades and revealing her eyes. Eyes that were lifeless, yet somehow burned with anger.

“Try to talk to him, get close to him, I don’t know. But I can’t stop him from going down that road on my own. Just please, help me save Jason.”

Tim didn’t know how to react. He felt pride for being right about the Hood’s identity, but also shock. How was that possible?! Bruce had found the body and buried it! They had a monument built to him! He felt his breath hitch in his throat, and stared at the girl with wide eyes. He saw her composure collapse underneath his gaze as she took a step back and wrapped her arms around herself..  
She wasn’t as all powerful as she tried to make her seem.

“Why should I help you?” He asked.

“...You’re the hero, aren’t you? Do your damn job. And technically...he’s your brother.”

And with that, she walked upstairs and left Tim alone in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too tired to say anything.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter everyone!

Zero was waiting outside of their hideout when she saw Hood drive up on his motorcycle. Flipping down the kickstand, he stretched out his back as he heard that satisfying pop.

“Have fun on your day out in the town?” She asked.

“Is he awake yet?” He answered.

“Nice to see you, Zero. Glad no one found our hideout yet and killed you, Zero.” She mocked, her tone lower to mimic his.  
Hood glared at her through his helmet. She wasn’t intimidated in the slightest, and walked back into the hideout. Hood followed.  
Once he was inside the building, he removed his helmet. With a click and a hiss, the locks relaxed and he pulled off the bright red metal identity, revealing a secret of black curls and a scarred face. He was wearing a domino mask underneath, his helmet, but Zero could still see his dark green eyes standing out against the black leather.  
He sighed audibly, closing his eyes in relaxation. He could feel the breath pass over his chapped lips, and the keys in his palm. He felt safe in the confines of his hideout and in the presence of his friend. This was the only place he did feel safe. He completely changed in the eyes of his friend. With the helmet on, he was the Red Hood, rising drug lord and nemesis of the Black Mask. But with it off, he was Jason Todd, the boy she had met on the most unfortunate days of their lives, and stuck together to try and make the other days less unfortunate.  
He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see Zero holding out a small glass of water. He took it and drank, ignoring the burning sensation in his chin as the liquid fell over his dry skin. He didn’t even stop to take a breath as he drowned the glass.

“He is awake. I talked to him earlier today.”

He almost choked, coughing up the water he just drank.

“You talked to him?!”

Zero placed a finger on her chin, rolling her eyes around as she pretended to think.

“...yeah.”

“What the fuck, Zero?!”

“What? Nothing bad happened. I asked him a few questions, that's it.”

“But you...you...what the fuck?!” He strangled out of his throat.  
Zero was still not fazed. She stared into her partner’s eyes, not backing down. She had to look up, due to him having a few inches on her.

“You know, I'm thinking about getting my hair cut.”

This threw Jason into a rage.

“That's not important!”

Zero wasn't listening to him.

“But I don't want to cut off my streak. That I want to keep. But my hair’s too long.” She mumbled to herself.

“You're not listening to me!”

“I know! I could leave just the streak, but cut off the rest.” She continued to ignore him.

“For fuck’s sake, pay attention!”

“What do you think, Jason?”

“Listen to me, dammit! I don't want you talking to him!”

“Why not?!”

This infuriated Jason as he held up his hand, stretched and flattened, aiming for her cheek. Zero did not cower away, continuing to stare at him, her lips pressed into a frown. His fingers were trembling as he struggled with the decision of doing it or not.  
He relaxed his hand, and rested his hand on her shoulder, the keys trapped in between.

“Your hair will look nice that way.” He assured, somewhat stiffly.

Her frown quickly turned into a grin, as she brought her hand up to gently pull his off.

“Well, I’m going shopping.” She beamed.

Jason had to wait a moment to react.

“What?”

“Well, you need me to make you an explosive, right? I need to go get the supplies if you want it by tomorrow night.” She informed, slipping the keys out of his hand.  
Jason just watched helplessly as she swaggered off, holding the keys off one finger high above her head.

“Oh, and you need to give him food and water. He’s your pet, you brought him in, not my responsibility. There’s a bottle of water and a fiber one bar, that should start you off.” She shouted out, her voice echoing in the room. She opened the door, the wood creaking loudly as it swung back and forth, and banged closed.  
Jason continued to just stand there, green eyes staring at nothing, his red helmet underneath his armpit.  
He didn’t know why, but he began to walk to one of the other rooms, searching through their resources. Sure enough, there was a food bar and bottled water that he tossed from hand to hand. The wrapper and plastic crackled.  
Opening the hatch, he was about to walk down when he paused. Thinking about it, he placed the helmet back on his head and locked it. He was Hood once again. He could feel the filter in his breather activate, trying to remove any chemicals in the air. He saw the vitals of the replacement appear in the corner of his left eye.  
They were incredibly calm.  
As he walked down the stairs, he noticed that the lights were still on, he guessed from when Zero came down.

“Now, I know you must be wondering-” He began, but stopped when he heard something unusual.

He heard singing.

“Z Y X W V U T, S R Q…” It was sung in the theme of twinkle twinkle, and was horribly offtune. He looked to see the replacement sitting cross-legged and cross-armed, eyes closed and face relaxed except for the singing. He was in what seems like a quick meditation.

“You’re...singing the ABC’s backwards?” Hood asked.

The replacement opened his eyes and looked up. Hood noticed his heartbeat quickly rise, from fear or the result of exiting meditation, Hood couldn’t tell with the kid’s straight poker face.

Batman trained him well.

“You’re brain requires a stimulus at all times. Otherwise you’ll go insane. Most refer to counting, or trying to recall a memory, but I choose to use those as a more last resort, requires more brainpower.” the replacement answered.

 _So Bruce chose a smartass. Great._ Hood thought.

“You know you don’t have to wear the helmet. I know you’re Jason Todd.”

_Straight to the point too._

“I know. Don’t give a fuck.”

The replacement remained silent. Hood didn’t know how long he remained silent, but he walked up to him and placed the stuff in front of him. The replacement looked down at what was placed in front of him then back up at Hood, one eyebrow raised as if to ask “ _really_?”.

“It’s what I got at the moment. And It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re thinking about. Look, neither one has been opened before.”

The replacement slowly reached down and picked up the bar, not looking away. Undoing the wrapper with a squeaky crackle, he took one bite of the bar, chewed, and swallowed.  
He did not look away from the Red Hood.

“You know, I would expect you to be more in shock. You’ve been kidnapped by the former Robin, a guy who’s supposed to be dead and six feet under.”

The replacement ate another bite of the bar. He chewed it slowly. The silence was painful for someone as impatient as Hood.

“How long have I been here already?” The replacement asked.

Hood thought for a bit.

“I’d say almost a day.”

“Well, I had almost a day to think it over and get over the shock. Meditation really helps with a lot of stress.” The replacement reached for the water and drank slowly. He had to be careful with the bike lock around his neck, so as not to get the food and water trapped in his throat.  
Hood turned to leave. He had given the damn kid what he needed. Now he needed to get ready for tomorrow night. Get more ammo, prepare the location, and more.

“...Thanks.” He heard the replacement say.

Hood stopped in his tracks, and looked over his shoulder.

“Really? You’re telling the guy who kidnapped you _thanks_?”

The replacement lightly shrugged as Hood left the room confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts back for me tomorrow, because we do the whole "Good Friday not Easter Monday thing," so I will not be able to update much. At least I'm not leaving you on a cliffhanger.
> 
> Comment and let me know what you think of the story. Is my OC too much in the spotlight? Are the characters too OOC?  
> Are there any grammar errors? Ley me know if anything seems off. Constructive criticism is appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make this longer, because I won't be able to update for a loooooooong time (exams and wisdom teeth removal will do that to a fic)
> 
> And the government would have a field day with my search history.
> 
> And to let you know, this chapter shift between POVs and time quite a bit.
> 
> *** = shift of time. Still same characters and their POV 
> 
> oooOOOooo = complete shift of time, area and POV.

Hood could hear the voices beyond the door, due to the aid of his helmet. He could also see their heartbeats, calm and unaware of the vigilante watching them.  
He chuckled at that.  
They were transporters, moving heavy crates from the boat onto the docks. Only one of the crates held what he needed, but he would have to wait until all are removed from the boat to search through them, otherwise the boat could drive off with the possibility of his cargo being on their.  
And he didn’t want that.  
Hood tossed the plastic bag from hand to hand, feeling the warm gray slurry shift in the bag. If he squeezed it, he could hear them squelch is the bag deformed to make room for the mass. Any other person would look at the substance and think it a harmless bag of wet clay, but Hood knew of the dangers the bag of chemicals possessed. As he waited for the thugs to move them one at a time, he went through the conversation in his mind.

***

  
_Zero tossed him the bag, which he caught with a loud squelch._

_“There’s your bomb. An ammonium nitrate-nitromethane.”_

_Jason looked at her, one eyebrow raised skeptically. He held the bag up in front of her._

_“This looks like either cement, or the stuff McDonalds uses to make burgers. I can’t tell the difference.”_

_Zero rolled her eyes, snatching the bag away from him. It made another squelch.._

_“I combined chemicals to make that. All it takes is one little spark, and boom.”_

_Jason narrowed his eyes, still skeptical. He had seen Zero make many chemicals that helped him when he was in trouble. Thermite to melt locks, chloroform to knock out attackers, mercury fulminate as a distractive explosion. He’s even seen her make the drugs they sell._

_But what she was holding...was a bag of slush._

_“What is it even made of?”_

_“40% Racing fuel and 60% homemade Ammonium Nitrate.”_

_“...what?”_

_Zero laughed. She’d been around him for so long now she could understand him with one word._

_“Easy. I bought Heavy Duty Concrete Cleaner and Ammonia cleaner from your local Walmart, mixed it up, and got Ammonium Nitrate. And for the racing fuel, let’s just say I know people.”_

_Jason sighed. He shouldn’t be arguing with the chemist._

_“How do I detonate it?” he asked._

_“You still have that tazer you stole?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Spread the explosive on the thing you want to detonate, stand as far away as you can, and shoot it. You know the rest.”_

  
***

  
They have removed the final crate, taking much longer than expected.  
That’s what happens when Black Mask gets desperate.  
He squeezed the bag onto the garage door, the smooth metallic gray turning a slimey dull, and began to walk back.  
  
_A taser can shoot up to ten meters away. That’s about thirty feet._ Hood thought, shifting his helmet into its tactical vision. His world was altered into a shade of blue, the objects turning into shades of orange, the people yellow and red. They moved like flames, trails of their colors following behind them.  
Hood marked the slurry-covered door. His helmet read 0ft. In the corner of his eye. He stepped away and watched the numbers grow, until it reached the magic number of 30.  
There were a few spare crates nearby, which he pulled together to form a makeshift barricade. Behind them he raised the taser, aiming carefully at the gray sludge.

“Boom.” Hood whispered.

He pulled the trigger.

oooOOOooo

Jaime was still in the infirmary, struggling to breath as his Beetle slowly tried to heal the wounds the tech had inflicted upon him. He had a minister keep track of his heartbeat, however they learned to not trust it due to the Beetle’s scrambling signal.  
The team would visit every now and then, but it was Bart that would visit everyday, whispering to the still form and telling him about the day that has passed. He would try and feed him, but Jaime would refuse every time.  
It hurt Nightwing to see a fellow team member in such a pained state. It also made him furious. He could feel his fingers shake, making it even more difficult to fiddle with the strange device they found on Beetle.

 _It’s so weird,_ Dick thought. _It's designed like a normal hacking tool._

He unscrewed the bottom, peeling it away like a layer of skin. On the inside, it was a labyrinth of wires, all many different colors, but what drew Nightwing’s attention was the heart of the intricate design.

It was kryptonite.

At least, Nightwing thought it was. He could tell by the texture and color, but this piece was...different. It had veins of a dark bluish hue pulsating through it, like blood in a heart.  
With a small pair of tweezers, he pulled it out. Immediately the device shut off, the red light dimming into a dead burgundy.

“What's that?” Dick heard behind him, and he turned to see M’gann, more commonly known as Miss Martian, step in. The bangs of her short red hair were pulled back by a small clip, one Conner had given her for her birthday. Her green skin looked sunken, the empath taking the toll of everyone's worry for Beetle and the missing boy wonder.  
She was in pain especially from the first day. The fear, anger and pain that rolled off of Dick in waves when he heard that Robin was taken. Cassandra as well. Even though she wouldn’t, or rather couldn’t show it, M’gann could feel the hurt from the second batgirl from the fact that her brother and closest friend was not there anymore.  
And who could blame them? Cassandra was raised on the basis of pain and seclusion, abused by her own father to create the perfect soldier. Now she has found someone that acted more as family than her biological father, one who would listen and calm her down when she needed it. Now he was gone, and she was trapped once again in seclusion. And Nightwing had already lost a brother to a psychotic killer, one that was measly sitting behind bars instead of paying the full price for his actions. Now he had another brother missing, kidnapped by a man who sported the killer’s former alias. It sent fear pulsing through Nightwing’s heart every second.

“It’s the power source. My guess is that the radiation field is concentrated on the inside, and the wires send it out into whatever it’s attached too.” He answered, turning the piece over in the metallic fingers of the tweezers.

M’gann held out her hand, and Dick gently handed the piece to her. She turned it over to see if she could find anything different, eyes the blue pulsing veins. Her eyes began to glow green as she surrounded the kryptonite with her psychic field, hoping for and failing at achieving a different reaction.

“It doesn’t seem any different from any other piece of kryptonite other than the new color, but it was able to bring someone like the Beetle to his knees. Just what is different about it?” M’gann asked, handing the piece back.

“That’s what I want to find out.” He answered, putting it back next to the metal shell.

“Have you heard any news about Robin from the remaining Justice League?”  
Dick sighed, and he could literally feel his heart sink in his chest. M’gann felt it too.

“No.” Was all he said.

He didn’t have time to say anymore, for he felt his wrist computer buzz. He looked to see a call coming from Black Canary, which he opened without hesitation.

“Yes?”

“There has been an explosion at Admiral Dock. We’re suspecting a possible heist from a few thugs or maybe even Penguin. You and a few members are being sent to take care of it. You'll also need gas masks. There are a number of toxic chemicals in the air.”

“Roger.” Nightwing confirmed, switching off the call. Standing up, he immediately began to notify Kaldur sending him the location that Canary had sent him. Kaldur would be perfect for this, an atlantean at the docks.

“M’gann, I need you to come along too.” Nightwing ordered as he ran to the zeta tube that led to Gotham.

She replied with a nod, following him.

Kaldur and Garfield were already waiting for them at the zeta tubes, not needing answers as they felt them warping to Nightwing's home city.

oooOOOooo

 _Never argue with a chemist_ , Hood thought as he shot at the thugs.

The explosion was much bigger than he thought it would be, singeing away almost half of the crates he was hiding behind. It killed a few of the men, making his job much easier.  
There were now about seven thugs, when previously there were 11, and they were in shock from the attack.

They almost made it too easy for him.

A few seemed to recover from their surprise, drawing their own guns and shooting at the attacker. But they harmlessly bounced off his chest as the Kevlar and graphene armor did its job.  
He shot each man effortlessly, each one dropping with a thud. It was like music to his ears, sending his mind into a peaceful stupor. The gunshots was the bass and the dropping the drumming. He could even imagine the screaming was singing instead.  
But soon the music stopped, and he woke from his daze to find that most of them dead, with dark pool of blood contrasting their skin.

There was only one left, clutching at his side and gasping for air.

Hood approached the man, revelling in the fact that the man's eyes widened with each step he took.

“Pl-please. I have to get home to my son. I need to get home to him.” The man strangled out, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood.

Hood raised his gun, and shot the man through the head, killing him instantly.

“Like I give a fuck.” He hissed.

With that out of the way, he began to search the cargo. Most of them were guns and such, which he decided to take a few for himself before throwing the rest into the bay. But he wasn't satisfied until he found the motherload.

Kryptonite.

A whole crate of kryptonite.

***

  
“Someone blew up the entire shipment, and I want to know...yes, Amazo was intact, but some fuck activated him…” The Black Mask answered, desperately trying to not crush the phone in his hand.  
Black Mask was a force to be reckoned with. A kingpin who had been the first to take control of Gotham’s underworld, and has kept control for many years, he was a man that if any tried to cross his path, their body would be found in the Gotham harbor the next day. Even his own henchmen would rather stay in the background rather than in his line of sight. They knew from experience that he wouldn't mind putting a bullet through their heads..  
However, what with the new vigilante that has been trying to take his place, more of the people who were loyal to him (as long as he paid them enough), begin to rebel against him. He would then pay them by covering his crisp white suit with their blood.  
And he was prepared to do so again, when he saw his secretary walk up to him, holding out a phone with an unknown number flashing on the screen.

“What?” He growled out, dangerously close to beating her into the tiled ground.  
The secretary herself was calm. She was used to threats from her boss.

“You remember that bad penny I've been telling you about?” She asked, her tone neutral.

“Yeah?”

“He's on the phone. He says he's got something that belongs to you.”

She handed Black Mask the phone, who snatched it away and held it to his “ear.”

“Hello. Do you prefer I call you Black Mask… Mr. Mask...Blackie?...” The caller trailed off, the smirk on his lips evident in his voice.

“Just talk, I'm listening. But when I say ‘I’m listening,’ I'm also thinking about killing you.”

“That's really not a great way to start off our relationship.” The caller pouted.

“Yeah, well, I have anger management issues. I abate the urge by murdering people who annoy me. Did you fry my shipment?”

The caller paused for a bit, giving time for the Black Mask’s anger to rise.

“ _Yes_.”

“Sonofa...which one?” Black Mask growled again, not wanting to please the rival.

“ _I don’t have the manifest number, but I can tell you. The box is filled with kryptonite.”_

“Yeah...I’m gonna need that.” Black Mask said in disbelief. 

  
oooOOOooo

It didn’t take long for Nightwing and his team to reach the Admiral docks warehouse.

Or rather, what was left of it.

There was smoke billowing from the side, crawling up through the air and flying into the night. Kaldur and Nightwing could feel their masks sterilizing the air they breathed as they went closer to the source. The hole in the side was still searing from whatever had been used, causing M’gann to recoil in pain. But nevertheless, she braced through, and the group was greeted by a sight that terrified them.

What they saw were bodies, lying down in their own blood that continued to grow around them, connecting the puddles and turning it into one big lake, the corpses a small pair of islands that stared in fear at nothing.  
Their was one man standing, leaning against a crate that gave off a light green hue from inside. He had a phone pressed between his shoulder and helmet as he reached into the crate and scooped whatever was inside into a small bag.  
He would've looked like an average biker, old leather jacket, torn jeans, normal t-shirt and combat boots, had it not been the holes in his shirt revealing what Nightwing could easily recognize as Kevlar armor, the fresh blood that caked his boots, and the bright red helmet that hid his face.

Richard could feel rage slowly build within his chest.

“State your name.” He snarled, drawing out his escrima sticks.

The attacker looked at the group, his helmet hiding any emotion. He removed the phone placed to the side of his head, and closed it with a loud snap. Throwing it over his shoulder, he turned to face the team, arms resting at his side.

“I prefer the name Red Hood.”

The next happened in a flash.

Nightwing ran at the Red Hood, his vision blinded with rage. M’gann recoiled from the wave of emotions that was released from her partner, Kaldur instantly by her side. Nightwing tripped his legs with a spin, then leapt up and slammed down on his chest. The Red Hood fell down onto the floor with an oof, and Nightwing pressed his escrima sticks against the villains neck.

“Who are you, and where’s Robin?!” Nightwing shouted. Red Hood didn’t even flinch. Dick thought he heard a chuckle.

“So you’ve heard. I’m guessing you found the little insect. How is he? Still sniveling from the present I gave him?”

“Cut the crap. Who are you, and where. Is. Robin?!” Nightwing ordered, pressing tighter.

“He’s living with me. Surprisingly nice boy you’ve got there. Much more polite than the previous one. Although, he was a street kid.”

Hood laughed at the vigilante’s shocked expression.

“And as for who I am...let’s say I’m an old friend.”

Nightwing didn’t know what to say. He was too shocked. Not by the fact that he knew of Jason’s death, but because he knew of Jason’s past.

“I got to say, I thought the Bat taught you better.” Hood sighed. Nightwing could practically hear the smirk.

“Never let their hands free.”

Nightwing didn’t know what happened next. He heard a gunshot, then was suddenly thrown off the villain. He rolled across the floor, but landed on his feet, seeing Red Hood running away with the bag over his shoulder. He was about to give chase, when he heard a shrill scream.

M’gann.

He turned to see M’gann clutching her side, her blood pouring out with each breath she gasped in. Kaldur tried to put his hand over the wound as well, but recoiled when he felt a singeing on his skin.

“The bullet won’t kill her, but the chemical on it will. Martian’s don’t like heat, right? Well, just wait for it to enter her bloodstream. I know my Martian anatomy.”

Nightwing snarled at the Red Hood. He was standing at the gaping hole, the singeing sides now dying down to a rusted metal.

“Choose.”

Nightwing was by M’gann’s side in an instant. He heard the Red Hood’s steps slowly die off as his chance at finding Robin, his brother Tim, ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, Zero is a chemist! Just a quick thanks to my chemist teacher and google (I can hear the FBI at my doorstep right now. The things I do for you guys).
> 
> Let me know what you think of the story! Does anything seem off, could anything be improved, what do you think is gonna happen next, etc. I love to hear feedback from you!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kicks down metaphorical door*
> 
> I'M BACK BITCHES!!!
> 
> And I feel FABULOUS!
> 
> Holy shit, almost 2000 reads and over 90 kudos?! You guys are awesome! You have no idea how much I appreciate your support!
> 
> You guys deserve more than this chapter.

Tim already went through the entire alphabet in German, Spanish, French, and Russian backwards, his voice slightly hoarse from such use. Now he was working on going through the entire sign language vocabulary, his hands gesturing in the darkness his eyes had long since adjusted to.

“Babble… babbling… baby…babyish... babysit…” he muttered as he made the signs. 

He jumped in surprise as he heard the hatch door open with a clang, and the wooden thud of the steps as the visitor came down.

He closed his eyes in preparation for the light that was flicked on. Nevertheless it still hurt his vision, burning temporarily into his retinas.

“How’ya doing?” He heard. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the black spots to see the girl, Zero, standing. She was looking down at the ground, trying to avoid his gaze.

“I’m doing great. I’ve been kidnapped by my supposed-to-be-dead brother and his...whatever you are to him, locked by the neck with a damn bike lock, and I really need a bathroom. Doing great.” He replied sarcastically. 

Zero stared at him before she ran back up, leaving the boy wonder with his own thoughts once again. He sighed, and began to go through the dictionary again. But he wasn’t left for long, before he heard more footsteps. He looked up to see Zero walking back down the stairs, but this time with a large plastic bucket in her hands.

At the foot of the stairs, still looking down away from him, she slid the bucket towards him.

There was silence.

Tim was about to give another sarcastic remark, when he was silenced by the rolling toilet paper that stopped at his feet.

What was stranger was the hand sanitizer that followed.

“Ok…” Tim muttered, using his feet to pull the objects closer.

Zero didn't say anything, and continued to stand there.

“You...know I wasn't joking about needing a bathroom, right?” He asked, feeling embarrassed about having to talk about this in the first place.

“I brought you the bucket, didn't I?”

“Yeah, but can you, I don't know, give me privacy?” 

The realization slowly dawned on her as the blush crawled up her neck and rested on her cheeks. She tucked one hair behind her ear as she stumbled upstairs in a rush and closed the hatch. 

Tim felt his own blush grow as he struggled with the Robin suit.

Some time later, he heard the hatch open and Zero came back down, albeit slower than previous. He could see her frame relax slightly. He relaxed as well.

“You need...anything else?” She muttered. She was still looking down at the ground.

“How about some answers? I’m sure you have plenty.”

“Yes. Just depends on the question.” she answered, drawing her knees to her chest.

“Well, let’s start simple. How is Jason alive?”

There was a pause, one where neither moved. Tim didn’t even feel like he was breathing.

“I don’t really know myself.”

“Okay. How...did you two meet?" 

There was another pause. Zero noticed a string in the knee of her jeans that she began to curl around her finger and pull, creating a tear in the denim. Tim didn’t want to push his luck, keeping quiet as he waited for Zero to make her decision.

“We met...because I was working for the Joker.”

 

 _oooOOOooo_  

_Jason’s head was aching from the wound the crowbar had inflicted upon him, his blood crawling down and stinging his skin. The copper odor and the smell of his sweat became stronger and hindered his breathing even more as his blood soaked into the dark cloth wrapped around his head. He could taste them as well, on the tip of his tongue._

_His head wasn't the only thing in pain, as the feeling of broken bones and torn muscles throbbed and threaded throughout his body, causing him to breath only in short gasps as the bruised ribs cried out._

_Jason had awoken to this pain. All he remembered is running after the Joker, trying desperately to catch the murderous clown, then suddenly feeling a blunt, yet strong force knock the side of his head and plunge him into unconsciousness._

_When he awoke, he gasped for air that was denied to him, then cried out as the pain bolted through him._

_The low, malice-filled chuckles that echoed in the room made it hurt worse._  

_“Well, it seems that the little songbird has finally decided to sing. And I haven't even done anything yet! Well, sort of. And you can hit a note, I have to admit.” He heard the gravelly voice of the Joker shout out, the words bouncing off the walls and thundering in his head._

_“Yeah, I can sing well. I'm fucking Harry Styles!” Jason shouted, although it was muffled by the sack. It still elicited a laugh from the villain_

_“You have a mouth, I must say. If my mother were to hear you, she would faint right on the spot.”_

_“Wait, you had a mother? Ha! I thought you came straight from a cow’s-”_

_He was cut short when he felt something hard hit him on his side, knocking the air out of his lungs and produce more pain in his body. He wanted to cry out, but he knows that will only make the clown happier._

_So he stayed as quiet as he could, holding his breath as the pain spread._  

_“Now that was very rude. At least the previous boy blunder had some manners.” The Joker scolded._

_Jason wanted to scoff, but the pain was too great._

_“It seems I'll have to knock some into you.”_

_Jason heard a scrape of metal on concrete slowly grow louder as the source crawled towards him. He felt something cold rest against the side of his head._

_“Where do you want to start? The forehead, or the back?”_

 

_***_

_Jason can't remember when he blacked out, or when he woke up. All he remembered was falling unconscious to the whack of a crowbar on his head, and waking to the throb._

_God, it hurt. The pain was all he felt. He wished it would just stop, but at the same time that it would continue. It was the only thing that gave him the assurance that he was still alive. That and the smell of his own sweat and blood._

_He could feel the bag sticking to the wound on his head, the cloth connected by dried blood pulling on his hair. He could also feel lines of his blood trailing down his face, underneath his nose, chin and domino mask. They cracked with every twitch of his muscles._

_He was pulled back to reality when he heard a long creak, followed by a dim light that penetrated the bag and slowly grew in his face._

_“Now, I want you to give him some treatment. Got to have him nice and clean for tomorrow!” Jason heard the Joker say, the voice sickeningly sweet in a way that only he could pull off._

_“Y-yes sir.” He heard a second voice. It was more pleasant than the Joker’s, a feminine tone with a silvery pitch that soothed Jason’s rushing head. But the haunting laugh from the Joker that followed set him back on edge._  

_“You’re so polite! He could learn a thing or two from you.”_

_Jason heard another creak as the light on his face slowly thinned. However, he never heard the slamm he was expecting when the silvery voice spoke again._

_“It’ll take longer than a day for him to heal. Probably five days or more...sir.”_

_What Jason heard next made his stomach squirm._

_He heard a whoosh, one that was quick, loud, and metallic, followed by a tear and a cry of pain from the voice._

_“You’re lucky I still find you funny. If it weren’t for that, you’d be nothing.” The Joker growled, and Jason heard a slam as the light finally thinned into nothingness._

_He heard footsteps come closer to him, albeit slowly. He felt a pair of hands, small and thin, trail across the sack on his head, resting at his neck as the fingers undid the knot. Jason wanted to cry out in pain as the hands began to pull it away, the cloth ripping as the dried blood tried to keep it stuck to his skin._

_Nevertheless, the hands continued to pull, until finally Jason’s face and throat met cold air. It stung horribly as he gasped for air, back arching in both pain and relief._

_He prepared to launch at the person, to try and run for the door, but the pain was too great. He curled in, trying to dull the pain, but it only made it worse as it burned in his body. The hands, smooth and cold, pressed against his forehead and brought a small sense of relief._

_The person that owned the hands was a girl, only a few years older than him. She looked thin, her body begging for nutrition. Her mousy brown hair was tangled with oil, sticking to her head. There was a cut across her chest, a small stream of blood soaking into her oversized gray shirt._

_But what drew in Jason were the bright blue eyes that looked straight into his, even though his were covered by a mask._

_Next to her was a bag, which she began to search through, although one hand stayed on Jason’s forehead._  

_He said the first thing that came to his head._

_“Who the fuck are you?”_

_What he didn’t expect was an answer._

_“I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours.”_  

_She pulled out a syringe, although it was missing its sharp point. There was, however, liquid in it that she began to spray into the open wound on Jason’s head._

_He lurched back and hissed as the solution stung his skin. He also began to spurt as it traveled down his face with fresh blood mixed into it._

_“Calm down, it’s just saline. Nothing to get fussed over. I haven’t even begun picking at it yet.” She muttered._

_Jason wanted to do anything but what she wanted, but it seemed as if he had no choice, due to the fact that he was tied up, injured, and she had the capabilities of helping him._  

 _So, he decided to entertain her._  

 _“I’m Robin.”_  

_“Well, in that case, I’m...Zero.”_

_Jason wanted to laugh at that._

_“Really? Out of all of the aliases you could’ve chosen, you chose that?”_

_She didn’t react to his comment as she searched through the bag again, pulling out a pair of tweezers. She began to pull pieces of debris from his cut, and he could help but flinch every time he felt the thin legs of the metal appliance press against the sensitive tissue.”_  

_“I chose that because that is what I am. I’m Zero. I’m nothing.”_

 

_oooOOOooo_

“And that’s it.”

Tim felt slightly surprised as he was pulled back into reality, out of the strange past that belonged to his brother and his friend.

Zero stood up, looking to the hatch that was still open, letting in what little light that could sneak through the windows and down to the bunker.

“I’ll tell you more, all in due time. What’s the fun in telling you all of it now?” She chuckled. She began to walk upstairs, but was stopped.

“Wait. you said you want me to save him. Why?” Tim asked. 

And, for the first time that day, she looked at Tim. Tim felt once again unnerved by the fierceness in her brown eyes that sparked and ignited a fire that few ever had.

“He’s killing innocents, and I want him to stop. I understand the rapist and murderers, those who deserve it. But not the drug addicts, the witnesses, the thugs who’re trying to help their family. Unlike him, I believe in a second chance.”

With that resting in Tim’s mind, she ran up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens, the past is revealed, and I'm just getting started. 
> 
> Let me know if anything seems off, too OOC, or needs improvement.
> 
> Thanks again!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!
> 
> Here's a chapter before my Germany trip, and it's a long one. More than 5,000 words! 
> 
> Here you go! Enjoy!
> 
> Also, there's torture. Pretty mild compared to others, but still, it's better to let you know.

 

Jason did not return to the hideout until the early morning, sneaking in and greeted by a baseball bat Zero always kept with her whenever he left. Once he calmed her down enough to not get a rod of metal smashed into his face, he told her of the adventure he had with the members of the YJ that had decided to visit. She listened intently, taking in every word and smiling when he tossed her the bag of kryptonite.

“Merry Christmas,” he began.

“And a happy fucking new year.” she finished.

“How long will it take you to make some more anti-alien shit?” He asked, and this brought a frown on her face.

“It’s called Kryptonite-R, and it’ll take about a month with the pace you’re going at, the fact that we don’t have any more Reach tech scraps, and that you lost the only one I made.”

Jason wasn’t shocked.

“We got time. I need to lay low anyway. Can’t have the old team on my ass.”

“But by the time I’m finished with this, the Batman and the other Justice League members will be back from the offworld trip. And I’m pretty sure you won’t get away with having a songbird in your basement for much longer.”

Jason chuckled.

“You’d be surprised. The Joker got away with it for a whole four months before he decided to hint Batman on my whereabouts by releasing the torture porn.”

Zero wanted him to stop. He was talking too nonchalantly about his past. And she knew that meant he was suffering. He tried to hide his emotions from everyone, including her. And it always led to him being injured in some way emotionally or physically. Always leading him to be careless and shoot too early, not find cover in time, or even hurt himself on purpose. But even when he knew of the damage that his silence caused, he still chose to hide himself.  
And there was nothing Zero could do about it. She could only watch as he slowly beat away at himself.

“We’re going to Clean Start today.” He said, walking away from his friend. He stripped himself of his jacket, the metal clang of his gear loud in the massive room. The next was his shirt, although after thinking for a few seconds, he put it back on. It definitely looked raggedy enough to pass as homeless. But his boots certainly didn't, and he lifted one to untie the lace. But what he heard Zero say next nearly made him fall with surprise.

“We should take Robin with us.”

He already had an answer.

“Fuck no.”

“Fuck yes,” she retaliated, “he's coming with us, whether you like it or not.”

“I don't.”

“Well too bad.”

Jason sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get anywhere with this. But he wouldn't give up.

“And how do you propose we take him with us? It's kinda hard to walk down the street with a missing vigilante.”

“Simple. Give him some of your clothes. You have plenty. Plus it'll make him seem more homeless.”

“Well, how're we gonna make sure that he doesn't try and run away? I'm not in the best shape, what with nerve damage and all.”

“Easy. The answer’s on your workbench.”

Jason felt the pit of his stomach begin to knot as his mind realized what she was saying.

“But that’s for...him. And besides, it only works once before the battery dies.”

A small smirk appeared on her face.

“He doesn’t know that.”

Jason could feel a smile split his lips open just a bit. That was cruel, even to him.

A few minutes after he prepared himself for the trip, he began to search through his drawers for whatever could fit the replacement. It was difficult. He was more muscular than the boy to begin with, and they were different ages. Plus the boy was much more lean than others his age. After the frustration of searching through every article of clothing, he settled on an old blue flannel and jeans holed and torn at the ankles. He also pulled out an old gray hoodie one that had a few stains of grease from when the original owner used to work late night jobs, and a pair of sneakers, the cloth torn and faded to a light muddy brown.

Satisfied with his choice, he sat down for a few minutes in the plush chair. There used to be many just like it, red velvet covering the stuffing, with golden brown armrests. But when Zero and he drove out all the junkies, they also threw out the numerous chairs, only keeping a few for themselves in what they respectively called their “bedrooms.”  
He also tore down the giant screen as best he could, leaving only a giant wall of concrete to stare or shoot at during nights or mornings when he can’t sleep.  
He breathed out, hearing it echo in the large area. The sound of air in his lungs was one that he had gotten used to a long time ago.

oooOOOooo

_Breathing. Breathing was all Jason heard as the room slowly grew smaller around him with each passing second. He tried to find anything other than the shrinking walls. He tried to focus on the pain, but his body was too used to the burning sensation to cause him any problems, plus Zero had just recently given him medical treatment, easing it to a dull flame. He tried to count numbers, first odd, then even, then prime, but that only made the walls shrink faster.  
How long had he been in here? A week, a month? No one had visited, only slipping food and water through a slit in the door. He had no choice but to defecate in the corner of his room. The smell used to bother him, but now it was a stench that passed his senses without a second thought._

_There were cracks in the wall. And they were growing. The small stretches of wear, age, and dark abysses were growing and swallowing him, leaving him in even more silence and darkness._

_It wasn’t the pain that was killing him. Not the beatings, not the torture._

_It was the isolation. The silence that had already eaten away at his ears, and was beginning to nibble at his mind, hungering for his sanity. Or rather what little he was clinging onto._

_He wanted to scream. To create noise that would fight against the silence. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t give the Joker the satisfaction._

_So he remained quiet._

_…_

_…_

_…_

_No._

_He couldn’t._

_He took in a deep breath, his body acting of its own accord despite the pain, and was about to let loose the shout, when the door opened.  
The light was blinding. He lifted his hands to block the light, bare hands wrapping around the cloth of his mask. They were pulled away by a pair of hands, callused and dry, forcing him to look at whoever was standing in front of him._

_It was the Joker, his nose wrinkled in disgust from the smell, but the blood red grin was still plastered on his chemically bleached face._

_And Jason was...happy._

_“Well, I think four days alone is enough. I don’t know about you, but I was pretty bored. It’s really dull sending daddy bats the footage of our last play date. Let’s get back to the fun stuff.” The villain hissed out._

_Jason felt his heart plummet through the ground at what he heard._

_Four days._

_That was all it took for him to conform to the Joker’s will._

_The Joker held up one of Jason’s hands in front of him, pressing an old switchblade to the already damaged skin._

_All Jason did was watch as the Joker sliced it open on the palm._

  
oooOOOooo

Jason was woken from his reverie when he felt Zero shake his shoulder.

“Come on. I’ll help you out with Robin.”

Jason simply nodded as he followed her out the door, to the bunker. He noticed that she was holding his project in her hand.

The replacement was not doing anything new, still strapped to the pole and trying to entertain himself in whatever way he could. He was making gestures with his hands, while muttering random words.

“Short…shorten...short hair...shorts…”

He was interrupted with Jason’s gun aimed at his head, black barrel staring into blue eyes.

Tim’s eyes widened in surprise. Not because of the gun, he has had many aimed at his head before by various villains. He was surprised because he finally saw Jason’s face. He was right when he called Tim a clone. Except for the different colors in their eyes, and Jason’s unusual white lock of hair, they shared many of the same features that would make one think they were brothers.

“Don't move, or I'll shoot.” The outlaw snarled.

Tim stayed still, remembering full well Zero’s warning of Jason’s instability. Even though he hasn't killed him yet, Tim wouldn't put it past the former boy wonder to change his mind.  
Zero walked around the two, eyeing the silent battle that was fought between them. Tim could feel her pull on the lock, slightly cutting off his airway. But it fell loose as she unlocked it, pulling it away from Robin’s neck. He lifted his hand in disbelief, rubbing the warm red marks around his neck.  
He wasn't given the satisfaction for very long. Zero suddenly wrapped something else around his neck. It was cold and metallic, like the bike lock, and locked with a click.  
But this time he wasn't attached to the pillar.  
Jason placed his pistol back in its holster on his leg, smirking at Tim.  
Tim felt the new accessory around his neck. It was tight and thin, clinging to his skin.It really wasn't that much different from the bike lock other than the thickness.

“What is this?” He asked.

Jason huffed out a laugh.

“It's a choker. Literally.”

Tim heard a beep, short and quick, and he turned to see Zero pressing a remote, small and black.

What happened next terrified him.

The collar tightened around his neck, cutting off his air instantly. He began to gasp, but it only came out as croaks. His heart began to beat faster, sending whatever little oxygen he had in his body throughout the system. His head felt unusually fuzzy, like someone had wrapped carpet around his brain. The feeling began to travel from his head to the rest of his body, making him feel like he was wrapped in a blanket.

He felt tired.

So tired...was this how he was going to die? Suffocation by his half-brother?

Well, Tim thought as blackness crawled into the corners of his vision, at least it's not a painful way.

Then the collar loosened around his neck.

The air came rushing back through, his body losing the tingling feeling rapidly. He gasped once, than twice. He grabbed at the collar and pulled, trying to let in more air as his body lost the euphoric sense and was replaced with a throb.

“We're taking you out today. If you try and run away, or call for help, we will activate this and it will choke you to death. And you have to stay at least 50 feet within range, otherwise it will activate automatically.” He heard Jason say through the dissipating fog that clouded his mind.

All Tim did was nod, glaring at him.

Jason tossed the clothes to him, landing with a thud on the concrete.

“Get dressed. You're not going out in costume.” Jason ordered.

Tim eyed the clothes, then looked up at Jason again, one eyebrow raised.

“Where are we going, if I may ask?” Tim said, lacing the words with sarcasm.

“Clean Start.”

“The shower place for the homeless? Why?”

“‘Cause you're beginning to reek.”

***

  
The clothes didn't fit Tim that well, but that added to the image of him being a homeless.  
Jason and Zero played the part well, although to Tim it wasn't that different from the way a soldier acts. Shifty eyes, looking over their shoulders, a quickened pace. It was almost difficult for Tim to keep up with them.  
When they first left the hideout, Jason covered Tim’s eyes with the hood of the hoodie he was forced to wear. Tim counted about 200 steps before Jason let him see again. Looking around, he tried to find anything that would stand out to him, settling for a bright blue billboard that supported this building company that worked for Bruce.  
They forced Tim to walk between them, the two brushing shoulders with him constantly.  
Tim didn't know how long it took, but soon they were standing in front of a square building, covered in faded yellow paint with a blue sign of a cartoonish man taking a shower, the words “clean start” underneath.  
He felt Jason nudge him forward, and Tim lifted his hand to open the door.  
He was greeted with warmth, which was preferable to Gotham’s cold air. It was quieter than the rowdy streets which was another plus to the boy wonder.  
But the one thing that did not change was the smell. If anything it was worse in there. The smell of soap and filth mixed together to make a diabolical concoction that almost made Tim wrinkle his nose in disgust. But he was pushed in nevertheless to be greeted by two women, both in their fifties or so.

“Jackie! John! We're so glad you came back! We were getting concerned.” One with disheveled blonde hair shouted to the three. Tim turned to see if there was anyone behind them, and was surprised to see completely different expressions on the two’s faces. Happy ones, calm and jovial.

“It's good to see you again. Had to move around some. We actually got this little fu-kid hanging around with us now.” Jason said, actually sounding happy. He placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, like a friend would do. Tim was just so surprised.

“Really, and what's your name?” The second lady, one with dark skin and joyful eyes asked.  
Tim felt the hand on his shoulder tighten, and he looked up to see Jason still smiling, but with a darkness hidden behind his eyes, one that would be missed by most.  
Tim looked back at the woman and muttered:

“My name’s...Alvin.”

“Well, Alvin, it's nice to meet you. And it's nice to see that those two finally let someone else into their group.” She told the disguised boy wonder. He nodded, trying to seem meek to not draw attention, but to also try and hide the collar around his neck. He didn't doubt that Jason would kill him instantly if anyone noticed the death device.  
He felt Jason’s grip relax slightly, meaning he was doing a good job. If he was able to convince a fellow bat, then he most certainly was convincing the others.

“Well, you're new here, so let me just ask. Do you like coffee?” She asked Tim.

“Yes.” He blurted instantly. Coffee was one of the lifebloods of the bat family, and Tim was no exception to that rule.

“Alright. Do you like anything in it?” She asked.

“Sugar.”

“Ok. And I already know you two. The usual, black coffee for John and diet coke for Jackie.” The lady said, pulling back a gray strand and tucking it behind her ear.

“Unfortunately, there's only one shower available at the moment.”

“That's okay. Alvin and I can wait. It's John’s turn to use it first anyway.” Zero said with a smile that almost seemed genuine.

Almost.

Tim watched as Jason left them, walking a route that he had blatantly memorized, meaning they've been here many times before.  
He felt Zero pull his arm as she walked ahead, boots stomping on the floor in a noisy fashion that was very unlike her. All Tim could do was follow as they went further in, to stop at what appeared to be a couch with a tv blaring the news to the room. Zero collapsed onto the cushioned furniture, pulling down Tim with her. Immediately his body began to relax a little, sinking into the plush felt.

 _More comfortable than the pillar, I'll admit_ , Tim thought. He didn't notice it before, due to his risen pain tolerance, but his body was incredibly sore. From the previous fight, or the fact that he was stuck in the same position for a few days, he didn't know which one.  
He ignored the soreness as best he could, and continued to sit on the couch, seeing what chaos was happening in Gotham now.  
Apparently Bruce was still on his offworld mission, because Vicki wasn't giving them anything about the MIA billionaire. Not that Tim was surprised.  
The reporter began to talk about an explosion that happened at the admiral docks, when Zero quickly changed the channel.

“You know that makes you look more suspicious.” He advised his captor.

“Whatever. They won't suspect a poor street boy to be the Red Hood.” She countered.

For a short time their was no speech between them, the only noise the tv as an old A Team episode played. Later one of the two women came with a coffee in one hand and a coke in the other. She gave the two drinks to them with a warm smile, asked them if they needed anything else, and when they both answered no, let them be.

When she was gone, Tim seized the opportunity.

“What makes you think I'll ‘save’ him? If what you're saying is true, he has no regard for human life, and that can't be fixed. And, if you want me to be honest, he probably hates me the most out of anyone beside Batman and the Joker. I replaced him.”

“Oh yeah, he definitely hates you.” She stated bluntly, opening her coke bottle with a pop and a hiss.

“You're really convincing me here.” Tim took a sip of his coffee. It wasn't like Alfred’s but it was still pretty good.

There was silence again as they both drank.

“But he didn't kill you. You know he only wanted to fight you, scare you a little bit and prove that you could be the Robin, not really hurt you...much. He had many opportunities. You even figured out his identity, giving him another reason, but he kidnapped you instead. What does that tell you?”

“That he plans on possibly torturing me to death instead and leaving my corpse out for Batman to say ‘this is what happens?’” Tim questioned.

Zero glared at him. “It means that he still has some value for life. And, if I can be honest here, you probably remind him of himself.”

This elicited a quizzical, slightly sarcastic look from the boy.

“You're a kid who's playing dress up and saving lives, aspiring to become your own hero one day. Sounds a lot like him to me.”

“Doesn't to me.”

“To each their own.”

“I at least wore pants at the beginning of my career.”

Zero laughed. It was a deep laugh straight from her stomach, one that made her look like a normal everyday college girl. But when her laughter died down, Tim was once again reminded of who she was, and it made his own stomach drop.  
They sat in silence once again as they each sipped their drinks, watching the tv.

“Expect him to take a long shower. The heat from the water helps him forget the coldness of his cell. The memory feeling of hypothermia and frostbite. Also helps with the nerve damage.” she informed him.

Tim didn’t say anything. He twisted the cup in his hands, the last sip spinning at the bottom of the blue mug.

“Can’t do anything else about it. Can’t have his name or face appear on any hospital records, and Leslie would recognize him instantly. Plus he smokes and drinks, which throws medication out the window.”

He still didn’t say anything.

“The hot water also makes him forget about the poisoned food.”

Tim looked at her in disbelief. Zero grabbed the remote of the tv and turned the volume up.

 _So no one can hear her_ , Tim thought.

oooOOOooo

“ _Wakey wake, little birdie!” He heard the Joker shout in a singsong manner. Jason glared as best he could through the mask, even though one of his eyes was swollen shut. He pursed his lips into a thin line that was ruined by the swollen bump in the corner of his mouth. The air burned his lips and throat, and made his body ache as his malnourished form rose and fell. He could feel his skin gripping his bones as he breathed, his stomach aching with the emptiness. He lost all muscle that he had built up over the years, now too weak to fight anyone._

_“My my, you're not looking to good. You need to put on some weight, boy.”_

_“Yeah, I don't want to look like Jared Leto from the Dallas Buyers Club.” He spat, trying to put as much malice behind the joke._

_The clown ignored him, and held out something that made Jason’s eyes widen, mouth water and stomach rumble._

_Food._

_A whole plate of food._

_And it looked good._

_The Joker put the food in front of the bound boy wonder, just out of his reach, and untied his hands. Immediately they launched for the food, but stopped short of the white porcelain. The bandaged fingers twitched and curled in, reopening the scars on his hands. He heard a little ‘aw’ come from the Joker, and felt a rough hand begin to stroke his head like a dog._

_“Aren't you hungry? I forgot to feed you, and I got worried about my little pet. You need to eat soon, or you might die of hunger. I don't want to lose my little Robin so soon! Especially not after the Bat’s expression of the last video I gave him.” He said in a babyish tone._

_Jason cringed at the action, trying to keep his face as far away from the Joker’s hand as possible. He cringed again as the hand gripped onto the roots of his hair and pulled his face up._

_“Eat.” The Joker ordered, his tone sinister._

_Jason saw the Joker grab a handful, the food squelching together in his palm, and shove it down Jason’s throat._

_It was delectable, joyfully burning his tongue with the taste. Jason had no choice but to swallow, or choke. It wasn't that long before his stomach cried out for more._

_But then chaos ensued._

_It felt like there was an animal, a rabid one, clawing at his stomach, ripping through the tender muscle and now clawing at his organs and flesh, tearing through the tender muscle. His lungs burned, his heart raced. His vision began to blur as his eyes began to fill with tears that collected and streamed in a never ending cycle. He began to cough uncontrollably the air twisting in his throat until it came out in a higher pitch. His lips ached as they stretched themselves into a wide grin that turned his cried of agony into a howling laughter._

_He didn't know when the Joker joined with his own laughter, but Jason was horrified by the way both sounded so similar._

oooOOOooo

Tim could only stare at his cup, not wanting to look at anything in fear that he'll lose his demeanor.

He still jumped when he heard Jason behind him.

“Who’s next?”

Zero looked at him, and Tim got the message. Placing his mug on a table, he stood up and walked past Jason. He could feel his eyes follow him as he left the room.  
As he showered, feeling the hot water run down his skin, through the metal collar, he couldn't help but think of what Zero told him.

His time in the shower was short.

When he came back, he saw that nothing had changed, other than Jason was seated down. As he took a seat between the two on the sofa, Zero stood up and left.  
Tim used the now free space to get farther from Jason.

There was silence.

Tim saw that the A Team was still on, the show highlighting the old cartoonish, over-the-top violence. Tim saw that the remote was in the middle, and decided enough was enough. But as he reached for the remote, Tim saw Jason snatch it away and look at him with a glare.

“We’re not changing it.” He growled.

“But it's the A Team.” Tim found himself complaining.

“Exactly.”

Tim just looked at him in disbelief.

“You like this piece of crap.”

“Hey! This was my childhood!”

“But it's so bad! I mean look at it! The acting is appalling! They're just repeating the lines they've read on the script! No emotion whatsoever!”

“Ok you little connoisseur shit, tell me of a good show.” He ordered, trying to sound menacing to make the kid calm down.

“Twilight Zone.” Tim blurted, not fazed in the slightest.

“What the fuck is that?”

“That’s MY childhood.”

“You mean that old black n’ white crap where everything is not as it seems?”

“Yup. That show had meaning and story behind it, unlike this.”

“Nothing wrong with a good action show.”

“Only if said ‘action’ is the live version of Tom and Jerry.”

“Boys, you're both beautiful ladies.” They heard behind them, and turned to see Zero leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and lips smiling at the two.

Jason only snorted as he stated “so you really did cut your hair.”

“What can I say? It was getting in the way. And don't act like you don't need one.” She said as she tucked the now shorter strands behind her ear and began to twirl the longer strand of blue around her finger.

“I wear a helmet, for fucks sake.”

Zero raised her hands in defeat, still smiling as she left the room. Jason and Tim followed. The two women came to greet them, and as Jason told them thank you many times over, Zero leaned down and whispered to Tim

“I've known him for two years, and he's never told me a thing about his past.”

***

Tim was still astonished by the smoothness of how Zero and Jason portrayed themselves as different people.  
The two women said goodbye to Tim the most, sad to see a new “friend,” as they put it, to leave so soon. He thanked them for his kindness, but kept his distance to try and hide the collar from their eyes.  
They walked back the same way, with Tim trapped between them, shoulders brushing.

Although, when Tim heard someone scream, he found himself breaking the form and running to the source.  
He heard cursing, and footsteps behind him, slowly fading away. He ignored them and continued to run, gliding through alleyways and abandoned streets.  
What he saw only made him react faster. He ran and jumped, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and using the momentum to swing him away from the woman. She screamed again and ran away, holding onto her torn skirt as if her life, or rather her virtue, depended on it.  
The man recovers from being swung, and lunged at Tim, who merely strafed to the side and grabbed the his arm, bending it at an uncomfortable angle and throwing him to the wall. The man responded with a satisfying “oof.”  
Tim tightened the grip further, and the man let out a pathetic cry.

“You fucking prick!” The man shouted. “What did I do to you?!”

“How about trying to rape an innocent woman?” Tim said with a dark calmness that sent shudders through the man.  
It didn't stop him from grabbing a loose brick with his free hand.  
Tim felt the rough texture of a brick hit his face, and he was sent flying to the side with a burning head. His head hit the hard concrete, causing more waves of agony to pulse through his head. He could feel blood begin to stream down the side of his face, warm against his cheek.  
His head felt dizzy, the world covered in a spinning mist. He tried to stand up, slowly, but his limbs were too fatigued. With one movement, the world was sent into a spinning chaos, the colors and lights making him nauseated.

A concussion.

“Well, you’re going to have to pay for messing with me.” He heard someone mumble, and a blob of black made its way closer towards him. It was stopped, however, by two other shapeless forms, one gray and the other brown with a streak of blue.

Jason and...Zero

It didn’t take them long to take down the man, and it didn’t take Jason long for him to snap his neck. The man limply fell to the ground, next to Tim.

He saw the blurred form of Zero kneel next to him, and she quickly snapped her fingers near his ear. The noise was loud and painful, and Tim gave off a delayed flinch.

“Where were we just at?” She asked.

All Tim replied with was a confused groan.

“He’s got a concussion.” She affirmed.

Tim’s vision was slowly fading out, giving in to the darker colors around him, but he could still clearly hear the annoyance in Jason’s voice.

“What, he doesn’t get one when I throw his head to the wall, but he just decides to get one now? What does he want me to do next, carry him?”

“Yes.” Zero replied immediately.

Tim was just as surprised as the other vigilante.

“You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Yes, I am fucking serious. He won’t be able to walk with a concussion, and I certainly as hell can’t carry him. So, it’s you.”

Jason didn’t even have time to argue. He simply gave the corpse of the man a good kick, and walked back to the two. He pulled the Replacement up with one pull of his arm, ignoring the kid’s groans and Zero’s pleas to be careful. With a movement he was all too familiar with, he put the Boy Wonder on his back, the Replacement’s arms over his shoulders and his head resting on the nape of Jason’s neck.

“You go ahead. I’ll hide the body. Too close to the place for comfort.” Zero told her partner, who only replied with an annoyed nod.

“And put him in your bed! He needs to recover properly!” She yelled at him as he walked away.

Jason remained silent as he walked with the replacement on his back, glaring at anyone who were curious enough to stare. He could hear the boy’s breath in his ear, and it sent waves of annoyance crawling down his back.

“Why’d you have to be so weak? Why’d Batman have to choose someone who can’t defend themselves without a metal shock stick?” Jason asked into the air.

What he didn’t expect was a response.

“Fuck…off. Brains bea’...brawn.” Tim said dazedly.

Jason couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“So you’re not against cursing, huh. Thank god. I don’t think I could handle another ‘oh spit.’”

Tim was too dazed to give another answer. His blurred eyes looked around him, taking in the surroundings. He saw many buildings, old and worn down, begging for reconstruction. There was even a billboard from one of Bruce’s many companies, the bright blue sending pain through the Boy Wonder’s skull.

He didn’t remember when he fell asleep on the former Robin’s back, but he read the words “Mona-” before he passed into a world of blissful black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and tell me what you think, although I won't be able to respond until I get back to America (or a reliable hotel wifi source).
> 
> Can any of you guess where they're hiding? I bet you can, 'cause I'm terrible with mysteries.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, and I'm on a normal sleep schedule again!
> 
> I love Germany and Prague (especially Prague. I want to move there).
> 
> But here is the chapter that I have had in my google docs for awhile and that you guys have wanted.

  
The Replacement fell asleep right at the entrance of their hideout, his breathing becoming more even. With a simple kick, Jason opened the door into their hideout.  
He was once again in awe of the sheer size of the room, despite him living here for more than a year now. He still felt a twinge of nostalgia when looking at the faded murals on the wall.

He hated that feeling.

The Replacement groaned in his sleep, digging his head deeper into Jason’s back. It made him squirm uncomfortably. He remembered how Nightwing, or sometimes even Batman would carry him like this when he was injured, the former being more silent and aware of his surroundings than the blabbering older brother.

His room was the same, not that he should’ve suspected anything differently. The homeless abandoned these streets as soon as the Red Hood started appearing.  
The Replacement didn’t flinch as he was placed on the bed, still asleep. The side of his head was still coated with blood both wet and dry, sticking to his skin.

“You’ll take care of it later.” Hood whispered to himself as he took a cigarette and lit it.

oooOOOooo

_It didn’t take Robin much time at all to knock out the thugs, each going down with a simple kick to one’s jaw and an electric jolt from his bo staff to the other. They both collapsed unconscious to the ground, their breathing heavy. Tim couldn’t help butt smirk at how well he was doing already as the new Robin.  
The truck was left unprotected, the precious cargo of weapons left open. It took Tim no time at all to send the location to Commissioner Gordon._

_Batman would be very proud._

_Or he would’ve been, had another thug not gotten the drop on him._  
He turned around to see the knife going for his throat, poised for a stab. With a jump to the side, the knife missed his throat and instead slashed his arm. Tim could hear his suit rip and blood bead around the fresh wound as he held his hand over it to staunch the bleeding.  
The cut burned, but it was better than dying.  
It wasn't, however, better than losing his footing.  
He misjudged his aim, and his foot accidentally hit one of the guns the former thugs had dropped and fell to the ground. He felt the concrete scrape his skin through the suit, and he could hear the thug laughing in triumph.

_“Got ya’, you little birdbitch!” The thug gloated._

_Although he didn't gloat for long when Batman came from the rooftops and landed a kick in the thug’s back that rendered him unconscious.  
Tim scrambled to his feet, not wanting to look helpless in front of his mentor. It was pointless, though, as Batman was soon at his side, prying away the fingers from the cut._

_“Are you alright?”_

_“Y-yes sir.”_

_Tim didn’t know how else to answer. He was upset that he was so careless to let someone get the drop on him after all of his training, but he was also glad that Batman was giving him attention that his parents had denied him when he was younger._

_His heart sank when he heard Batman’s next words._

_“You need to be careful Jason.”_

_Tim could feel a hole dig into his chest, clawing away at his heart like an animal. Immediately that small feeling of gratitude for attention withered away, and he quickly replaced the emptiness with the cold calculating feeling that Bruce always portrayed as the Bat._

_“It's my fault. I should've seen him.” He replied as calmly as he could._

_Bruce quickly figured out his mistake, and was about to apologize when they heard the sirens of the police cars grow closer._

_“I'll be more careful next time.” Tim said as he launched his grappling hook and flew onto the roof, his mentor guiltily following._

oooOOOooo

His head hurt like hell. His eyes too as the bright light burned his retinas. He groaned as he brought his hands up to block the light, his hands moving at a pace that even snails could beat.

“Joy, you’re awake. Now what have you forgotten? How's your libido?” He heard a voice ask.

Dully, he replied with “Merde vous, Jason.”

“Ok. Concussion has completely fucked up your brain, making you only speak gibberish.”

“It's called French.”

“Eh, I didn’t bother paying attention to language. I was fighting crime in Gotham, not Paris.”

Tim groaned again as he rubbed his temples with his palms, trying to rub away some of the pain in his head. He heard footsteps grow closer to him, and he painfully looked to see Jason holding out a pair of sunglasses towards the boy wonder.

“These’ll help your headaches. Concussions make you more sensitive to light.”

“I know that. This isn't my first one you know.” Tim retaliated, but nevertheless he took the sunglasses and placed them on his head. Immediately his headache began to slowly ebb away. His vision was still slightly blurry, but he knew it would heal overtime. He tried to get up, slowly to avoid a bout of nausea. He felt his hand sink through something that was relatively soft, and he realized he was on an actual bed.

Well, a mattress anyway.

“What's this?” Tim asked, immediately feeling stupid for asking.

“That's my bed, and I want it back.”

“You call this a bed?”

“Sorry it's not Wayne Manor’s Italy-imported goose fluff mattress. Unlike you, some of us had to grow up with a less luxurious lifestyle.” Tim could hear the sarcasm and anger behind his words. It sent small waves of pain up the back of Tim’s head with each forceful vowel. He decided to try and appease him, mostly because he didn't want to get hit in the head again and cause further damage. Raising his hands in mock defeat, he apologized. He could see Jason’s shoulders relax from their stiffened position, his jaw unclenching.  
There was a tense silence, one that Tim used to sit down and rub his head.

“What happened to you to make you the new Robin?” He heard the former boy wonder mutter. He probably wasn't expecting an answer, but Tim decided to surprise him. Curling up and resting his chin on his knees, Tim began.

“Well, it all started with Batman's rampage on crime…”

***

Once Tim had finished his story, Jason found himself grinning at the end.

“So you stole the suit, kicked Two-Face’s ass, and that qualified you as a Robin?”

“Pretty much.”

Tim had made sure to leave out as much of the story about Jason as was possible, and he couldn't help but mentally pat himself on the back for doing so well.

“Pretty impressive, although not as good as mine.”

“Yeah, what did you do that dazzled Bruce?” Tim asked, slightly offended.

“I helped him take down Ma Gunn’s School of Crime.”

“Not as big as Two-Face.”

“You just apprehended one man, I helped take down an entire gang.”

“Two-Face was the leader. I cut off the head of the snake. So I pretty much took down an entire gang as well.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” Jason conceded, leaning back and resting his head in his laced fingers.

Tim felt a smile crawl onto his lips, but it fell as he remembered the situation he was in. He was a prisoner, trapped and unable to go anywhere. The man in front of him was a killer, who wouldn't think twice, maybe even once about shooting him in the head.  
Jason had the same revelation, as Tim saw the smile turn into a frown, and his body stiffened once again.

“Alright, seems you’re doing fine.” Jason told the boy wonder. Tim nodded and stood to get up, but stumbled as the blood rushed to his head and caused the agony to once again throb and his vision blurred. He tried his best to hide the pain, but he knew that Jason would notice. He worked with Batman, the man that would try to hide a fatal stab wound.  
Nevertheless, he didn’t say anything and watched as Tim stumbled out of the room. With every step his vision blurred, like a camera slowly going out of focus. His vision became darker, even after he removed the sunglasses.

...He swore he was falling.

...thought he felt hands catch him.

  
...thought he heard someone...Zero…say ‘thank you’ before he fell back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concussions do affect your sleep cycle, your light sensitivity, and more. And yes, it does affect your sexual functions as well (I will not say anymore)
> 
> Tell me what you think of the story, what could be improved, and what you think is gonna happen next, because I am a review addict!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna say anything, just enjoy!
> 
> Except for this: this was all posted on my phone, because my computer finally decided to quit PERMANENTLY.

It has been a week, and Tim’s concussion was now nonexistent.  
Although Tim wished it had lasted longer. It gave him free roam of the hideout, and now he was back in the basement, although he could now walk around the entire room. They thankfully hadn't strapped him back to the pillar, since the collar was enough to scare Tim into staying. Zero even brought down an old mattress for him to sleep on, which he found oddly kind of her.

She still would not meet his gaze, as if his eyes would burst her into flames.

As the days went by, Tim had already went through all of the knowledge that he had, and was now devoid of anything that would serve as a distraction for his mind. He then went to training, aiming to maintain his flexibility and muscle memory, but soon he had went through every punch, kick, and cartwheel he knew twice. He even jumped on the mattress like a child, as embarrassing as it was when Zero caught him in the act. When he was bored with that, he was stuck with pacing.

But even that lost its distracting splendor.

He was lying down, fingering the hole in the torn sleeve of the hoodie he was wearing. It continued to grow and spread, the fibers popping away as his fingers pulled at the strings.  
It wasn't long before the entire front of the sleeve fell off, leaving him with a small fabric of cloth to play with.  
He ignored Zero and Jason whenever they came down, with food and water in hand, or to lead him to the bathroom (with a blindfold, to Tim’s annoyance). They would blindfold him when they took him out as well to the Clean Star, and other homeless shelters, emphasizing the collar around his neck to make sure that he didn't try to run or call for help.  
He learned the names of the two women that worked there, Patricia Werten and Uma Faner. Although he didn’t bother to learn any others from their visits, still believing that Jason was one step away from killing the Boy Wonder.  
Today he chose to ignore the opening of the hatch again, as well as the growing footsteps. He was surprised when he felt a book fall onto into his lap, literally jumping and scooting away from his captor.  
Jason found it amusing, however he didn’t laugh, trying to seem intimidating to the Boy Wonder. But the raised eyebrow at seeing the book on his lap said otherwise.

“The Knife of Never Letting Go?” Tim read out the title.

“So you stop picking at the hoodie. I ain't getting you a new one.” Hood replied.

Tim flipped the book over and read the description, not piquing his interest in the slightest.

“Todd Hewitt is the only boy in a town of men. Ever since the settlers were infected with the Noise germ, Todd can hear everything the men think, and they hear everything he thinks. Todd is just a month away from becoming a man, but in the midst of the cacophony, he knows that the town is hiding something from him -- something so awful Todd is forced to flee with only his dog. With hostile men from the town in pursuit, the two stumble upon a strange and eerily silent creature: a girl. Who is she? Why wasn't she killed by the germ like all the females on New World? Propelled by Todd's gritty narration, readers are in for a white-knuckle journey in which a boy on the cusp of manhood must unlearn everything he knows in order to figure out who he truly is.” He read out loud, looking at Jason with skepticism.

“Look, its sci-fi, and it's what I had at hand. I thought kids your age enjoyed dystopian society shit? Hunger Games and all that.”

I read Shakespeare in third grade, you tell me what I like at this age, was what Tim wanted to say, but he could see the pistol underneath Jason’s leather jacket. Without saying anything, he opened the book and read the first page. He didn't look up as he heard Red Hood leave.

***

Tim learned early on in his career as a vigilante to never expect things because the unexpected was more likely to happen.  
But he didn’t expect for Zero to try and get him to drink while Jason was out strutting as the Red Hood.

“What the hell is this?” He asked when Zero held out the glass to him. He didn’t take it, instead stepping away from her and the coppery liquid.

“It’s a surprise. Thought you’d might like it.” She answered with a smile that looked, but was anything. It innocent.

“I’m fourteen!”

“So?! Where they make it, sixteen is the probably the legal age.”

“I’m fourteen!”

“Close enough.” She shoved the drink into his hands. He fumbled to get a grip on the glass, not wanting to shatter it onto the floor. He just held it in his hand, nose wrinkling in disgust at the smell. He tried to hold it as far away as he could from himself, but Zero would always push it back to him, the smell assaulting him all over again.

“I already poured it, just drink it.”

“No!”

A sly smile curled on her lips, one that sent shudders through Tim’s stomach.

“I’ll tell you another one of my ‘stories’ if you drink the one glass.” She said, taking a sip of hers.

Tim’s grip around the glass tightened. He shouldn't be so eager to learn of his brother’s torture, but he was curious nonetheless. He didn't know if that was because of Batman’s teachings to know everything, or his own inner detective, but he didn't care as either or both were begging him to drink it.  
Relenting to his conscience, he lifted the glass to his lips and took a swallow, trying to get as much down as he could in one gulp.  
It burned worse than fire, and Tim knew what that felt like. He began to cough, some of it coming back up and spilling onto the floor. Zero couldn't help but laugh at his expression of pure shock and annoyance.  
As soon as Tim finally calmed down enough, he took a second gulp, once again trying to get as much as he could down, and once again coughing as the liquid fire burned through his throat and stomach.  
He held the now empty glass up to Zero, who took it with a victorious glint in her eye.

“Done. Now hurry before the alcohol starts taking effect.” Tim said.

“Okay. I'll start where we left off.”

 

 

> oooOOOooo

_Jason still felt the effects of the laughing toxin burning in his lungs, still forcing him to laugh with every gasp of air, every wheeze of pain._  
Zero did not react much to his condition, only wincing with every giggle that emerged from his chapped and swollen lips. She continued to stitch his wounds shut, both old and new, as he squirmed in pain from the toxin. She didn’t need to worry about the claw marks around his neck, only pouring on hydrogen peroxide and putting a band aid over them. Her father and she have had to deal with many toxin victims trying to claw out their own cords to stop the laughter. All she had to worry about was the infection from their fingernails.  
She was so lost in her focus that she didn’t notice the silence coming from the boy wonder. Not until he talked to her, finally free of laughter.

_“Why’re you...working...for that son of...a bitch?”_

_Zero didn’t answer, continuing to stitch the cuts on his arm, criss-crossing the thick black string over the torn flesh._

_“Why’re you wor...working for the Joker?” He asked again, this time louder._

_“Not by choice, if that’s what you’re implying.” She answered as she rubbed off the blood on the string, snapping it with her teeth and knotting it at the end. Normally Jason would have been repulsed by this, but their situation made him less aware of less important things._

_“Then why’re you...here?”_

_It was awhile before she answered, removing the bandages around his head, then pulling out the copper-colored gauze, hearing the skin slowly relinquish its grip. The wound was much smaller after the month of healing, no longer needing to be filled._

_“You know about blackmarket doctors? What am I saying, of course you do.”_

_She rummaged through her bag, pulling out fresh bandages and wrapping them around his head._

_“My dad was one, and my mom was a patient that couldn’t pay the bill in cash. When my mother gave birth to me, he was the doctor that helped her, and he was my life savior. The first thing my mom tried to do to me was throw me into the nearest trashcan, but he decided to keep me as his daughter. He taught me most of what I know. He even payed for me to go to school, then college for a degree in chemistry_.”

_Jason just listened._

_“But the Joker decided that he needed his own personal doctor, and tried to hire my dad. When he refused, the clown decided to take me instead. I’m easily breakable compared to my father, I already know as much as he did, plus he would have two for the price of one.”_

_“How long have you been here?” Jason asked. Zero pulled out of her bag a bottle of water, which she held out to him. He recoiled from seeing the liquid, not wanting to be poisoned again. Without reacting to his behavior, she opened it and took one sip.  
Jason waited for her to begin to laugh, to fall over with an excruciating smile, but when she stared at him with that same bored expression, he hesitantly took it and drank some himself. It soothed with the burning in his throat, and he downed it in three gulps_.

_“A year.” She replied as she pulled out another water bottle and gave it to him, which he greedily drank once again. This exchange continued, with bottle after bottle being downed by Jason, and Zero just sitting there waiting to give him another.  
When his throat and stomach was finally soothed, he rested his head on the concrete, enjoying the cool texture on his warm skin._

_“How much longer do I have to live? Until he’s bored of me?” He asked._

_“You’d been here for three months. I’d say maybe two more_.”

 _Jason sighed as the reality sank in. Batman had not come yet, meaning he wasn’t going to come at all. He knew how this worked. Beside, he could tell that he was waiting to be rid of him. He wasn’t like Dick, he wasn’t like the fucking golden-boy. He was a disappointment._  
He could feel the tears seep through his mask, pst his skin and onto the floor.  
Zero watched as he began to cry, and watched as he continued to cry. She didn’t think as she moved closer to him and pulled him into a hug, one that was gentle and treated the vigilante like the shattered glass he was, yet was tight and comforting all the same.  
HIs sobs were muffled by the sleeve of her shirt as he turned into her shoulder, accepting the comforting gesture. He would have to turn away for every breath to continue. She just held him, gently rocking back and forth. He continued to sob.  
Even though they were quieted, he almost missed the words that she whispered to him.

 _“I know of a way to escape_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you know (most of) Zero's backstory, and why the hell she's there. There's still more to come, though.
> 
> And you gotta admit Tim is the kind of person that seems like he'll do anything for information or something that'll give them the upper hand.
> 
> Now don't think that I approve of underage drinking. I really don't.
> 
> Review and let me know what you think! I love to hear from you guys!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th of July! It's raining where I'm at, so no fireworks for me (dammit)

Jason came back to the hideout early, with only half of the night gone by. He wasn’t expecting anything out of the unusual that he already knew was there.

Seeing Zero with a stumbling replacement outside of the hideout was not something usual, and not something he already knew.

“So we were hidin’ here the whole time?” The replacement slurred, nearly falling over had it not been for Zero’s grip on his arm.

“Yup, the one place Batman won’t look, because it’s the one place he won’t visit, at least according to Redhead.”

“Well, according to Redhead, the replacement shouldn’t be out here, knowing where we live!” Zero heard behind her, and she turned to see the Red Hood towering over her, arms crossed and helmet glaring from the light of the streetlamps.  
Zero looked at him, ready to retort, but was stopped when Tim put a finger to Hood’s helmet in a gesture to quiet him.

“Sssssshhhhh, asshole. I’m toooo busy respecting your choice fuuur a hideout. None o’ the vigilantes eeeever visit Monarch theater.”

Hood swatted away the hand, appalled by the strange behavior. Tim didn’t react, too busy staring at the abandoned building in awe.

Leaning over to his partner, he whispered into her ear. “What the hell is up with him?”

“I just gave him something to drink.”

“Which one, how much did he have, and how strong is it?”

“Stroh Rum, had one glass, and the lady told me it was ‘ _močan kot drek_.’”

“And that means…”

“‘Strong as shit’ in slovenian.”

She could hear him sigh under the helmet as he grabbed their wrists and pulled them back inside, like a mother pulling a naughty child aside. Tim was too distracted, as well as too drunk to resist, and Zero found no point in it, and let themselves be led back. As they walked through, Jason couldn't help but look at the faded Kingdom tapestries once again, playing off of the word “Monarch.”  
Fucking theaters and their shitty themes. This kingdom fell from the death of two rich people, yet the ruins were kept alive by their broken son.  
Once inside, Zero had to stop Tim from stumbling over again, holding his shoulders in her hands.

“Do you have any left?” Hood asked.

“Uh-oh. You only ask for a drink when something went wrong. Trip go badly?”

“Fuck yes it did! Half the bullshit traders decides to abandon me and go back to Black Mask, saying I ‘haven’t been keeping up with my end of the deal.’ Well they’re still fucking alive, aren’t they?!” He yelled out as he removed his helmet. Zero let go of Tim, and brought over the drink from the counter. Knowing his habit, she didn’t bother with a glass and instead handed him the entire bottle.  
Lifting it to his lips, he gulped it all down as quickly as he could. When he was finished, Jason was so tempted to throw it against the wall in anger, but instead handed it back to his partner.

“What’s worse, more than half my militia went with them, thinking that I’m one of those rise and fall guys.” He finished, easily ignoring the burn. He’s had stronger stuff before.  
And obviously Tim had not, as he stepped forward and put a shaking hand on Jason’s shoulder.

“Ya’ need to leeet go o’ some o’ that stress. It’ll eventally kill ya.” He mumbled.

Jason just watched in disbelief and mild amusement as Tim began to list off ways to relieve stress, most of them what Batman has drilled into the two Robins heads and Jason made his best to forget. He never really listened to him that much to begin with.

“You hang on the Bat’s every word, don’t you Replacement?”

Tim’s vacant expression slowly turned into a vacant frown. He reached up and inebriatedly punched Jason in the shoulder. While it didn't hurt him, it still managed to surprise the villain.

“Stop callin’ me a Replacement. My name s’ Tim Drake, I’m the third Robin, third protege to Batman, and successor of Jason Todd, my idol. If you keep calling me Replacement, I’m gonna start calling yoouu asshole.”

Jason was stuck at a loss for words as Zero gently pried Tim off of her partner and led him back through the room, into the old cellar. She had to walk slowly down the steps, making sure he didn't fall as he continued to ramble on about how he was not a replacement. Zero just nodded her head, pretending to listen but focusing on not falling down. It wasn't until he asked her that she finally spoke back to him.

“Why don' you look me in the eyes? It’s very hard to have a conversation with you, o’ to listen when ya’ tell me about Jason.” He mumbled.

She stiffened, memories threatening to resurface. But she pushed them back, not ready to dwell on them just yet.

“I'll tell you in the morning.”

“He dudn’t have the right. Iz’ not my fault that he's where he is.”

“Shh, I know. I know.” Zero soothed, all too familiar with a person’s drunken or drugged attitude. Mostly from Jason.

When they reached the bottom, she gently placed him on the bed, and he fell asleep almost instantly.  
She ran back up as quietly as she could, wanting to run away from the question she was just asked, but knowing it was impossible. She saw that Jason was still standing there, staring at the spot Tim was previously standing at.

“Jason, you okay?” She asked, slightly concerned.

“He called me his idol.” Was all he whispered. Zero didn't know how to answer, and instead stood there as she watched his mind try to comprehend what he just heard.

It's answer was to laugh.

But it wasn't a normal one, nor even an insane one, but one of despair. One that both have heard many times before from both of their lips.

“I'm not exactly the best role model.”

“Neither is Batman.” Zero retorted. This only made Jason laugh more. It filled her with sorrow to hear this laughter and to not be able to stop it.  
Jason continued to laugh, his voice echoing in the room. It made the faded murals seem more sinister to him, he could almost see the red lips and yellowed teeth smirking on their bleached faces.  
Zero stepped forward, slowly to not scare him, but smoothly enough to show she wasn't hesitant.

“You know, if things were a little bit different, we probably would've gotten along.”

“I know.”

Zero spread out her arms, trying to embrace the broken vigilante. But as soon as she touched his leather jacket, that same blank mask appeared on his face, blocking the former look of vulnerability. It hurt her that he would try and do that in front of her, after the years they spent together, she remembered when he first showed her the mask.

Right before she saw him kill.

“You know that room echoes, right?”

She stiffened in place, her arms lowered back to her sides. Her silence was his answer.

“So you've been telling him of my happy fun times with the Joker behind my back? I gotta say, that's low.”

She huffed out a laugh in disbelief.

“Low? When have I ever done anything that's low?! You're the one that kills people and sell drugs!”

“Don't act like you're innocent. You're the one that shows off her slutty side to get what she wants!”

“Okay, I admit that's a bit low,” she says, looking away from him before returning her glare at him full force. “But I did it to help you get some ammo. You were empty, and Black Mask had them in a separate shipment that wouldn't arrive for months. I was just trying to help.”

“Help?! You nearly killed the salesman with your homemade concoction of dope! And that's not the first time! You nearly beat our only trader to death once! He didn't give us the Reach scraps you wanted, and you got pissed! At least I know who to kill, and WHEN to kill!”

“Yeah, well what about that poor drug addict you killed to lure in bird boy?!”

“What about your own father!”

Her hands balled into fists, and she began to beat them into his armored chest. Jason just stared in shock as he watched her break.

“I do it to help you! I was the one risking my life, my father’s life too, to help you escape! And even though your torture was so painful, mine was just as bad! I know I don't understand what it feels like to be stuck in a cold area, or a small space, but you don't understand what it feels like to feel heat! You don't know what it feels like to see with these eyes! You don't know what it's like to be wronged by those who see your weakness! And not just physically! You're not the only broken one here, and you know that! But you act like I'm not good enough! You act like it's my fucking fault!” She cried out with every punch. She could feel the skin on her hands beginning to break against the armored vest, and she saw small smears of blood appear on his clothing. Nevertheless she didn't stop, not until her hands began to sting to the very touch.  
She hissed as she pulled her hands back, examining the now bloody sides of both.  
Jason grabbed one of her hands and examined the cut.

“Let's put some bandages on those, okay?” She heard him whisper, and he pulled her to the room she called her bedroom.

While Jason’s room, a former theater area, was almost barren, Zero had filled hers with as much as she could. She had three tables devoted to chemicals and chemistry tools she stole from a school, and two more for medical supplies. He let go of her, and gently pushed her down onto her bed, where she sat gazing vacantly at his feet. At the table, he sighed as he looked at the disorganized order of the supplies. Searching through the mess, he finally came back with some bandages, and began to wrap them with the soft cloth.  
There was silence, only the swish of the cloth.

“You know, ever since you brought him here I feel like we're a sort of a married couple arguing over the wellbeing of their child.” Zero chuckled as she pinched the bridge of her nose with her other hand, before Jason took it and began to wrap it up as well.

“What?” He asked, giving her a quizzical look.

“Well, we always argue about what we should do with him, and we work together about as well as a couple who's gotten bored of seeing the other naked.”

That elicited from him a chuckle of his own.

“Although I think you aren't that bored of me yet.” She informed, looking up at him mischievously.

“I'm not gonna answer that.” He said as he examined his handiwork, making sure that none of the injured skin was visible.

“I'm guessing you're gonna go after those mob bosses that betrayed you?” She asked, which Jason answered with a nod. She replied with “I'll get started on your tools tomorrow.”

Jason normally would retort, saying her injured hands would make it more dangerous, but he could tell that she was not going to listen.

She could be a stubborn bitch when she needed to be.

She slowly removed her hands from his grip and laid down on the mattress, curling up into a position that even Dick Grayson would find uncomfortable. She was about to close her eyes, to fall into another broken night of sleep, when she heard Jason tell her something she never wanted to hear.

“Zero, your eyes.”

“Oh.” She brokenly replied. With an ease she wished she didn't have, she reached into the corners of her eyes, her fingers curling around and pulling out the robotic device. She flinched as she felt her nerves disconnect with the bionic. She took a cloth she kept in her pocket and placed the bionic eye in the smooth fabric. Then, doing the same with the other eye, she felt Jason take the eyes and could hear the shifting fabric as he covered them. She felt her eyelids lower, and she told Jason that it was okay to look. She knew how much he disliked seeing her after she removed her eyes.  
Jason placed the eyes next to the mattress, in a box she kept there for them, and was about to leave, when he was stopped.

“Could you stay, please? You still owe me for when I stayed by your side a few nights ago.” She pleaded.

Jason didn't smile at her weak attempt of humor. He instead said “okay” and sat by her until she fell asleep.

He stayed by even then, waiting for when she would wake up from her own hell of pain, rape and loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting a lot darker now.
> 
> How many of you are surprised by them hiding at Monarch Theater? (I stole that straight from Red Robin)
> 
> And I found drunk Tim to be oddly funny to write.
> 
> Comment and let me know what you think. I love reading your reviews!


	15. Chapter 15

When Batman returned from the offworld trip, Dick was hoping some emotions from the dark knight at the news of his son’s kidnapping, but he knew it was not to be. He knew that his adopted father would try and keep his appearance stoic, to not worry the others.  
However there were signs. Most people would not be able to tell, but Dick could with the smallest signs.

Teeth chewing on the corner of his lip.

His thumb and index tapping each other repeatedly in stemming.

The quicker rise and fall of his chest.

As he watched Batman ask the rest of the Young Justice team, he heard many questions pass by, most of them answered negatively.

“The attacker’s name was Red Hood.” Kaldur’ahm said.

“He’s skilled in combat and technology.” Cassie informed.

“He had a device that severely disabled Blue Beetle.” Oracle stated.

“We looked for the tracking devices in Robin’s belt, but they were all spread out over Gotham.” Garfield lamented.

“We planned to use M’gann’s telepathy, but then the dock attack, and… Nightwing already told you everything else.” Impulse told him, for once slow to talk. From either fear or guilt, Dick couldn’t tell.

Cassandra was one of the three not here to greet the returning League Members, the other two, M’gann and Jaime, being injured by the mysterious Red Hood. Beetle was still recovering from the mysterious effects the device had left him, saying that it had disconnected-no, ripped-the scarab’s consciousness from him, and probably would have killed him had it not been for the fact that it shut off after a few minutes. Now the scarab was trying to reconnect the two, a slow and tiring process for the both of them. M’gann was faring much better, her body and the human medicine helping her flush out the dangerous chemical. She was sitting up in the infirmary bed, having a mental conversation with her uncle J’onn. It was a fascinating process, seeing the Martians talk to each other, with their green eyes sending signals only they could catch.  
As J’onn finished talking to his niece, he relayed the information back to Batman.

“It seems that M’gann was unable to retrieve information from the Red Hood’s mind. It was like he knew how to block out her mental psyche.”

“So he was trained.” Batman whispered. Already Nightwing could see his mentor list and delist possible suspects or organizations.

Once Batman had retrieved all of the information he could, even asking the same people twice to make sure, he motioned with his hand for Nightwing to follow him, and the two left in the Batmobile.  
Now it was Nightwings turn to answer his mentor’s questions. He saw Batman breathe, preparing to ask, and Dick took that as his que.

“According to Beetle before he went into his recovery, Tim found out the killer’s, Red Hood’s, identity. That could be an explanation for why he took him.”

“But captured, not killed. Does he hope to use Tim as a bargaining chip to ward us off? We have not been invested in the Red Hood’s actions yet, so he should not have had to worry about us for awhile. If anything he sped the process.” Batman muttered to himself. Dick could see his fingers tighten around the wheel, the leather groaning. Dick’s fingers traced over the escrima sticks attached to his boots, thinking about what to say.

“According to Jaime, he said that the Red Hood was assessing their attacks. The Beetle’s scans proved that he had guns, fully loaded, but Jaime said he never used them. Instead he used a knife, and only used defensive tactics. The only time he used offensive was when he said that he ‘needed to go.’”

“So he was observing? No… testing. But why would he test Robin? Is he in league with Deadshot? I remember he did the same to you; go defensive and see what you’re capable of, see if you are a worthy protege.”

“So you think he might have wanted Tim for an apprentice like Slade with me?” Dick asked.

“Not likely.” Bruce replied immediately.

“And why’s that?”

“First off, everyone knows what happens when they mess with my family.”

Dick couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Second, he would have no need of an apprentice. He’s a drug dealer and weapons extortionist, as far as we know. He could be trying to take the mantle from Black Mask. He won’t need someone else for that.”

As they parked the batmobile in the cave, they were greeted by Alfred, who already had two cups of coffee on a tray, both steaming in the cool air. Dick gratefully took one, but Batman walked by, too in focus his surroundings. He was almost too in focus to notice Cassandra asleep at the monitor, almost pulling the chair out from under her. But as soon as he saw her, he seemed to have lost some of the tension in his body, his shoulders relaxing. Gently picking up the sleeping batgirl, he handed her over to Dick, who tried his best to not wake her. Nevertheless, as soon as she shifted into her older brother’s arms, she stirred and opened her soft eyes. She looked dazedly at the two, then she suddenly chopped Dick in the back of the neck, stunning him as she leapt back, prepared to attack them. But as soon as her feet touched the ground, she came to the realization that she was not in any danger, and went back into her dazed mind.

“It’s alright, Cassandra. Nothing to worry about.” Bruce whispered, familiar with his daughter’s disbeliefs of her current reality.

Dick relaxed as he watched the others relax too, his breath loud in the stone cave. He felt his neck tense, and he rubbed the sore spot as Cassandra looked up at him with an apologetic look.

“Sorry. It should stop hurting soon.” She signed, with Dick still struggling to understand. He finally realized how important Tim’s lessons were, and would pay more attention when his little brother returned.

When. Not if.

“You’ve been doing more patrols lately Cassandra, you need rest.” Bruce gently ordered. Cassandra agreed with a nod, and sluggishly walked up the stairs. The original Dynamic Duo waited until they heard a door close, then Bruce brought out their only two pieces of evidence.  
The device, and the strange kryptonite.

“We've done a material scan, and we discovered that it is kryptonite, combined with Reach metal. Kryptonite is already a disabling ore, and combined with the Reach technology, which is the same as Jaime’s Scarab, it has evolved to the point where it can power any form of simple technology, and can disable anything alien related, including M’gann’s telepathy.” Dick informed his adoptive father.

“Have you done a DNA scan on it?”

“We tried, both with the computer and by hand-gloved, of course. Nothing comes up. We think it has either faded, cleaned off, or that the creator wore gloves. Same with the crime scene. All sources of DNA, including the victims, was no longer there. Fingerprints, blood, everything was cleaned off.” Dick complained.

“So he knows how to cover his tracks.” Bruce said, placing the device on the nearest desk.

Then, he did the unexpected.

Taking a firm grip of the strange kryptonite, he threw it as hard as he could onto the floor and crushed it underneath his boot.

Dick didn't react, too shocked by the action. He only watched as Bruce searched through the fine dust and pulled out the metal Reach pieces. With swift movement, he placed them under the scanner and typed onto the computer. Pulling up a map of Gotham, he watched as miniature red dots appeared across the screen, some near the docks while others were closer to the heart of the accursed city.

“If we can't find the maker, maybe we can find the supplier.” Bruce muttered under his breath as he typed in more commands.

“Every single piece of Reach metal is connected, even when separated into scraps. I simply need to trace back, and identify the pieces these ones are connected to. Then as I increase the amount of Reach metal for the signal...” as he spoke, multiple red dots began to shrink away, until only one was left, red and blinking in the very center of Gotham.

“The bigger the supply is, the more likely we'll find the supplier.” Dick finished, a smile etched onto his face.

Both vigilantes prepared to leave, running towards the batmobile, when they heard Alfred’s commanding voice.

“First, you need to rest. I advise that both of you sleep the rest of tonight and the morning. That way you can be better prepared.”

“Alfred, we need to save Tim.”

“You'll probably do more harm than good in the state you two are in. Master Bruce, you just came back from a different planet. And Master Dick, you've been losing sleep over the loss of your younger brother, and don't tell me that you haven't. First thing tomorrow night.”

The two knew that they couldn't argue with Alfred, especially when they heard the Batmobile lock behind them. They knew that they could travel by foot, but by then it would be morning, and it would be time for Bruce Wayne to arrive safely from his plane to Gotham.

“Alright.” Was all Bruce muttered as he walked up the cave, Dick following.

Little did they know of the eavesdropping Batgirl who ran out of the cave with her new information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Batman is back!
> 
> But even though he is back, he's still going to play as much of a role in this as he did in Young Justice, which is to say not much. Maybe a little more.
> 
> And the Reach pieces do seem to be connected somehow. Like with the Beetles being able to interact they way they did in the show.
> 
> Comment and let me know what you think of it. I really appreciate feedback.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken awhile to update. I just ran into some real-life problems, and those came first.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, here is a long overdue chapter.

Tim woke to another headache, this one pounding against his skull with each heartbeat.

This was becoming a trend for him. And it was one he didn't like.

As steadily as he could, he sat up in his bed, trying his best to block out the light. He reached over for the sunglasses, and was glad to see they were still by the side. Much like with his concussion, the glasses helped to ease his headache.

However, it did not help with his dry throat and the feeling of wool in his mouth. He still had some water remaining from previous visits, which he drank greedily to get rid of the feeling. It pleasantly burned, unlike the alcohol from last night. Nevertheless it didn't quench his thirst, and the wool was still stuck in his mouth. He noticed that the hatch was open, letting in light that burned through the sunglasses. But he knew better than to leave the room alone.

Realizing that it was the afternoon, he waited as the light moved and shrank, signifying the already passing day. As he sat on the mattress, the wool in his mouth continued to grow until it was down his throat, itching and stinging with every breath.

Giving up on waiting, he slowly walked up the stairs.

He glanced around the giant room, taking in the sheer size and design. He was amused at the former owner’s attempt to make the theater a theme. Monarch, a kingdom. Murals of a fairytale kingdom on the walls.

His footsteps echoed, so he took off the shoes, leaving himself with the torn socks. They were beginning to unravel even more, with his big toe sticking out. But they muffled his noisy steps, so he walked around, taking in the rest of the theater. He found the bathroom, and was surprised to find that the sinks gave clean water. Cupping his palms, he drank as much as he could. Soon the wool left his throat, and his thirst was quenched.

“I'm never drinking...whatever that was, ever again.” He muttered to himself as he took of his sunglasses. He collected more water and splashed it across his face, the drops soothing his heated skin. The light still burned, so he quickly put on the sunglasses and left the bathroom.

There were only two more rooms to explore, which Tim could guess were the theater rooms. It was an old fashioned one, with only two theater rooms instead of multiple. This made Tim frown.

_If this was around when Bruce was a kid, then how old is he?_

He mentally shrugged, not caring for the answer. He decided to explore them, seeing that his head still hurt too much to read the book Jason gave him and he couldn't practice his fighting techniques. Without question he chose the one on the left. It was a habit of his to always choose the left, one that the Riddle engraved into his mind when he trapped the boy wonder in a labyrinth that altered the old rule of “follow the right” with a riddle at every corner.

He figured either the Riddler missed too many nights of sleep, or thought Tim was too stupid to solve something that easy.

In the theater, there was very few things to even interest the young vigilante. He could easily tell that this was where Jason slept by the mattress, the assorted pile of clothes, and the bullet holes that decorated the concrete wall. He had to give credit to his older brother, he shot the wall in a way that made the holes the shape of a smiley face.

Most of the old theater chairs were torn out of the floor, with only three remaining. He sat down in one, and it gave off a high squeak that hurt his ears. He got up as quickly as he could, not wanting to create that awful noise again, and left.

Next was the theater room in the right. And he found many more interesting things in there.

The first was the two other residents asleep on the floor, one lying down on her own torn up mattress and the other sitting up, stiff and giving off the illusion that he was awake. He probably had to sleep like that on the street, so no one would try and take what little stuff he had. He was probably very alert to noises as well, even without the helmet.

Tim thought this as he stepped on a loose floorboard, which gave off a loud screech.

What happened next was a blur.

Tim heard a gunshot, then he felt a thin line of pain crawl across his right arm. He gripped it as he felt the tear in the cloth and the thin stream of blood that spilled through his fingers. He fell down onto his knees, trying to stop the blood from the graze.

Jason, on the other hand, was furious and shocked. He held up the smoking gun, while the other was out in the air in an attempt to shield Zero.

Zero herself is in hysterics, curling into a ball and covering her eyes with her hands. She was shouting something that incomprehensible due to the echoing of the room.

As Tim stilled his breathing and grew used to the pain, he could hear Jason try and fail to comfort her.

“Zero, it's alright-”

She screamed and gripped at her hair, pulling at the short strands. Tim could hear the echo of Jason’s sigh, as well as “fuck, again.”

“Zero, you're fine. It's just a flashback-”

“I killed him!” She screamed at him.

Tim slowly let go of the graze on his arm, ignoring the sting as the torn cloth rubbed against it. Standing up, he neared the two, but fell back from the shock at what he was seeing.

It was not Zero’s screams that frightened him, nor the forceful way Jason was holding her down as she thrashed, trying to free her arms from his grip.

It was her eyes. Where there should've been those brown eyes verging on the edge of grey, there was nothing but empty blackness.

It sent waves of fear rolling through Tim’s stomach, making him want to back away. But as he saw he scratch at his half-brother drawing blood from his cheek, he felt the urge to help plant and grow within his chest. Once again he stood up and walked to the two.

Zero was still trying to wrestle her hands out of Jason’s grip, where he had them pinned to the floor. She screamed into his ear, and he reeled back in pain, but still did not let go.

“Why?! Why'd I do it?!”

“Zero, we talked. You didn't didn't kill him, it was an-”

She screamed again, and this time Jason couldn't hold her down, falling back and covering his ringing ears.

Zero continued to thrash around, crying out the same words over and over until it became incoherent babbles.

Tim snuck over to the crying girl, placing a hand on her back. Immediately she slashed at him with her hands, and he jumped back. Ignoring the stinging, he waited until she calmed down to only sobs and wails, then snuck up again and placed his hand on her back. He could feel her tense once again, but as he moved his hand up and down her spine, her muscles slowly loosened. She raised her hands, and covered the empty eyes. Tim found it easier to look at her, and continued to rub her back.

He heard a click, and he looked up to see Jason sitting up, gun once again aimed. Tim could feel Zero tense once again, and he raised his finger to his lips. He looked into Jason's eyes, hoping that the former Robin could understand what was happening. Tim felt relief flood through him when Jason nodded and placed the gun down on the floor. Her mouthed a “thanks” before once again turning his attention back to Zero, with Jason watching.

Tim moved his other hand and placed it on her shoulder. When he thought she was calm enougoh, he drew in a breath and talked to her.

“What's your favorite song?” It felt almost wrong to ask at the moment, but Tim knew what he was doing.

“What?” Her voice was scratched and hoarse from the wails.

“What's your favorite song?” He asked again, hoping that his voice sounded calm.

“This...This Magic Moment.”

“Really? I can't say I've heard of that one. Can you hum me the tune?”

It was a few minutes before she started, but when she did, Tim felt her body slowly calm down as she went on. It was out of tune with her hoarse voice, but Tim let her carry on. She was still covering her eyes, which Tim was thankful for for personal reasons. When she finally reached the end of the song, he gently patted her on the back.

“That was good, I'll have to look it up sometime. What's the name of the band?”

“Jay and the Americans.” She was answering a lot quicker. That was good.

“They don't sound familiar.”

“Of course they don't. They’re from the 60’s. I'd be surprised if you did.”

“You're not that much older than me.”

“Fuck off.”

“Do you know any other songs by them?” Tim asked, ignoring her verbal jab .

“Yes. Another one is Cara Mia, and Come A Little Bit Closer.”

“Nice. Can you hum those?”

And so the morning passed with him asking her about dif songs from the same band, and when there were no more of those, he would ask her about a different one she liked, and have her hum those. He didn't stop until he felt every muscle in her body relax. He slowly removed his hands, and stood up. He forgot about the bullet graze on his arm, and the sting returned full force. But nevertheless he ignored it and smiled down at her, temporarily forgetting.

“Thank you for telling me about those bands. You'll have to introduce me to more later. It's actually pretty late, so we need to get some sleep.”

“Okay. You need some culture in your life anyway, you gen. Z fuck.” Even with her attempt at humor, her voice sounded weak and hurt. Tim wanted nothing more than to help and comfort her, but he couldn't help every broken victim, and she was no exception. All he could do was leave her to heal herself. He motioned for Jason to follow, who quietly stood and walked alongside the new boy wonder. Once they reached the end of the theater, Tim quietly closed the door behind him and raced for whatever Jason was going to shout.

Instead, he (fortunately) only got a furious whisper.

“What the fuck!”

“She obviously suffers from PTSD. I help Bruce out with his episodes, as well as Nightwing and other victims if I have the time during missions. She was difficult, but not as hard as Bruce. He's a minefield.”

“Telling her to sing her favorite songs doesn't make sense with helping someone stop reliving torture!”

“It created a stimulus she recognized as calming, and she instead was re-experiencing something that made her feel safe. It overtook the flashback until she was no longer experiencing it. Took a lot longer than expected, though."

“More importantly, why the fuck were you in there?!”

“I woke up, I was bored, I wandered around and ended up in there.”

“You shouldn't be wandering around!”

“Well _sorry_ dad, but I’m not exactly obliged to follow your orders. And you shot me, this whole situation could've been avoided if you hadn’t done that!” Tim argued as he raised his arm to show the graze. But as he moved it, he felt it sting and he hissed. Looking at it, he realized that it wasn't a graze, but rather a small chunk of his arm was missing. Not enough to damage, but enough to hurt. He could hear Jason sigh, and grab him by the shoulder of his uninjured arm. Her felt himself be pulled along by his older brother.

“You're gonna need stitches for that.”

Tim squirmed out of his grip, taking a stance that screamed defiance and authority. He should know, he had Cassandra teach him.

“Not until you tell me what happened back there.”

Either the posture worked, or Jason was tired. Either one was fine as he watched Jason give in.

“Fine. But I still need to stitch that up.”

Tim nodded and followed the other vigilante to his room, the first theater. He was forced to sit on the floor while he watched him pull out a medical box (how did he miss that, maybe he was a little bit hungover).

“I see you're still using the shades by the way. The rum give you a headache?”

“Is that what it's called? How strong is it?” He removed the glasses from his face, the light no longer harmful to his eyes.

“It's stroh rum, and it's ‘ _močan kot drek_.’”

Tim smiled. “I thought you didn't care about language because you were in Gotham, not Paris.”

“Eh, you pick up and remember a few things. Not that they're helpful, Replacement.”

“Are too, asshole.”

Jason held back a chuckle.

“So you're gonna keep on that promise?”

“Yes.”

Tim felt the prick of the needle on his skin, and he tensed as he felt it run through, the coarse string following.

“Okay, now you tell me what happened back there.”

It was awhile before Jason answered.

“Well, since she isn't here to continue story time, I'll start where Zero left off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to be as true to PTSD as I could be. Sorry if I got anything wrong.
> 
> And once again, sorry it took so long to update. 
> 
> Review and let me know what you think of the story so far! I need my daily dose of reviews.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, this chapter is entirely a flashback, however it is important.

_It was a month until Zero told Jason the preparations had been made for their escape._  

_“Two syringes, both filled with sufentanil. I'm not even gonna explain how they work. It knocks people out, it's helpful to us. We use them on the guards, you the one on the left, me he right, and we run out of here. There's a car in the back they use to come and go. We can use that.” She said as she slipped one into his torn sleeve._

_Jason couldn't help but let out a chuckle._

_“What's so funny?”_

_“The Joker only assigned two guards to make sure I don’t escape. Does he really think I'm that pathetic?”_

_“Well, he doesn't expect you to hobble out here with a broken leg.” She answered as she pulled him up into a standing position. He hissed in pain as stitches strained and bruises flared. He leaned a little against her as she wrapped a hand around his waist and lifted his arm over her shoulder._

_“He never broke a leg, and he knows that.”_

_“But the guards don't. They believe almost everything I tell them. You always should trust your doctor.”_

_Jason couldn't help but mentally laugh at that. The guards truly were stupid._

_“Ready?” She whispered, and he nodded. They bother took one step, and he almost cried out in pain, his face scrunched to contain the shout._

_“Well, at least we don't have to worry about your acting,” Zero muttered. Jason was in too much pain to make a snarky retort._

_They practiced walking until Jason got used to the pain, now only grunting with each step he had to take. Most of it came from his chest, where he suspected there were a few bruised, maybe broken ribs. He felt a few of the old knife wounds reopen as he walked, both on his arms and legs. He could feel a small amount of blood smear between his arm and Zero’s hand, but she showed no reaction as they continued to walk. She would count “one, two” with every step, trying to keep a rhythm._

_Jason didn't know how much time had passed, but when he heard Zero ask him “ready” again, he knew she meant the real thing._

_Jason was always trapped in the same room, excluding the small chamber the Joker would lock him in for isolation. There were splatters of blood that covered the floor, walls, and crates. Jason tried to see what was in them once, and was disappointed to find mostly things that wouldn't be able to help him. He did find a porcelain jar, which he smashed and tried to use the sharp pieces to escape._

_Obviously it did not end well for the boy wonder. A few more scars to add to his collection._

_They reached the door, the only one to lead out of the building, preparing to fool the guards. Zero reached over and opened the door. Immediately Jason heard guns click from the black hole that led to unknown territory._

_“Relax, I'm just making sure his bones’ve healed. He can't run.” Zero shouted, masking any fear in her voice. They waited until they heard the guns click, and she slowly took a step out into the darkness, Jason limping along._

_“You got this, okay? Just one, two. One two.” She said, making sure the echoes reached the two guards. They didn't respond, and Jason hoped that meant that they weren't ready to shoot. Slowly his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and he could see the two guards, both with the butt of the rifles resting on their foot. Neither one of them were big and packed with muscle, which was better for them. Easier to attack, especially with surprise._

_He slowly grew used to the pain as well, feeling like he could try and walk on his own. He tapped on Zero’s shoulder, one of the many signals they created during their months as captives. She nodded, and slowly she removed his arm from her shoulders. She held onto his hand as she led him around the room one more time, making it look like she was helping him with his leg. They did one more walk around the room before she began to lead him back to the door. He felt her grip on his hand loosen, and he saw her put a hand in her pocket for her syringe. With a small flick of his wrist he had his at the ready._

_When they passed the guards, he felt Zero completely let go of his._

_Their signal for “now.”_

_With a jump to the left, he had his hands around the body of the guard, the syringe plunging into his neck. Zero did the same, and the anaesthetic immediately began to work. The two guards plummeted to the ground, with the two captives standing up. Zero had to help Jason stand up as he felt he pain in his chest once again flourish. She held out a pair of pills to him, which he eyed skeptically._

_“Pain killers.” She told him. He took both and dry swallowed them, something Bruce made him learn. She grabbed his hand and began to pull him along through the dark room._

_“The exits this way. It leads to the garage.”_

_Jason didn't question, only following her as she lead him to another door, and opened it with a click and a squeak. He felt like he was about to cry when he felt the cold air on his skin and in his lungs. He choked back a sob when he saw the car, an old minivan that looked like it had seen better days, but could go for a few more._

_Zero opened the back door and laid him across the seats, only pausing for a moment before reaching for the middle seat belt and lacing it across his waist._

_“Really?” He wheezed out._

_“I don't want you rolling onto the floor and getting hurt. And in case we crash.”_

_He was too tired to argue, or even retort. He just laid there and listened to Zero close the door, move to the driver’s side, and start the car. The low hum of the engine and the sway of the car as it drove on made him want to fall asleep. He closed his eyes, finally feel my at peace…_

_He was jolted back into fear when he heard a screech, and felt the car jolt. He looked up, and felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight of Zero’s terrified face. With difficulty he sat up and looked out the cracked windshield._

_What he saw horrified him._

_It was another car that crashed into the front of theirs, just in front  of the road that led away from his prison._

_In the driver’s seat was the Joker, hands gripping it tightly._

_He was not smiling._

_The next happened in a blur. He saw the Joker get out and grab Zero. She was screaming, thrashing in his grip until he punched her square in the jaw. He left her dazed on the snowy ground, then opened the backseat door and grabbed Jason. The seatbelt stopped him, with which he simply cut with a knife and slung the boy Wonder over his shoulder. Each sharp movement sent a wave of pain through him, despite the painkillers. He felt the Joker reach down and grab the hem of Zero’s shirt, pulling her along._

_Back to the prison._

_***_

  _“First the stupid Bat figures it out ahead of time, then you two fuckers try and escape.”_

_The Joker’s voice was eerily calm for someone who seemed so furious. He paced around the two, who were lying on the ground looking up at him with fear and hate._

_“I blame the damn thug that gave the Bat the tape. He must've spilled, or given the unedited one.” He muttered to himself._

_Zero shifted in her place, trying desperately to not cry. Jason had no idea how to comfort her. He felt like he was about to cry too._

_She sniffed, wiping away a stray tear._

_A terrible mistake._

_The Joker spun around, his mouth a snarl._

_“It's your fault!” He shouted at Zero. She cowered in fear, but that didn't stop the Joker from grabbing her arm and pulling her up._

_“You switched the footage! You must've! And then you have the_ **_gall_ ** _to ruin my game!”_

_He hit her in the head, making her fall to the ground once again. He pulled out a knife, and raised it over his head to plunge it into her chest. However he stopped, looked at the knife, and smiled. He walked away, which Zero tries to use this free time to get closer to the boy wonder. However she could only reach for him, her mind in too much of a disarray. The Joker came back much quicker than expected, carrying a blue metal canister with a long silver nozzle._

_A blowtorch._

_He placed it down, putting his knife in front of the nozzle and turning it on. The blue flame licked the metal weapon until it turned from silver to a bright orange. He reached for Zero, pulling her by her hair. She could only look in fear as he held her in place, drawing the knife closer to her face._

_“I never understood why so many people like the color blue. It's really dull and really common. I mean, the sky is blue, denim’s blue, every social media websites are blue. You get what I mean. But people seem to be all over it. They love the color blue, they love people with blue eyes, always let them get away with EVERYTHING. And you know what?”_

_It was right near her eye, her skin burning from just being near it._

_“...I don't really like blue. I prefer red. Your hideous blue eyes aren't gonna help you this time.”_

_He pressed the knife to her skin, just underneath her left eye. She screamed inhumanely, the sound piercing and shrill._

_Jason cringed at the noise, his hands immediately covering his ears. The smell was sickening._

_The image of the Joker moving the knife upward even more made Jason looked away. Even though his ears were covered he still heard the unpleasant_ _squish_ _that was followed by even more screams. He never heard her breathe in, her screams still ongoing. He heard another squelch, and soon only her screams was what he heard. The clatter of a knife on the floor was followed by a horrendous smell._

_“This'll teach you a little something special. Your daddy too. Ha! Wait until he sees you and your new look!”_

_Jason slowly opened his eyes, and had to stifle a scream himself. Where her bright blue eyes once were, were now only holes of a deep dark red, with small pools of crimson pouring out in the corners like dead tears. There was a fresh red burn underneath her left eye, where the skin was peeling, the muscles sizzling and veins pulsing._

_The Joker picked up Zero by her arm, the girl now unconscious from the pain, and dragged her away._

_Jason tried to stand up, but he could only bring himself up with his arms._

_The painkillers had worn off._

_He tried to crawl, moving with his hands like a lame man. He made it halfway across the room when he felt something hit him in the back of his head. He fell forwards, his skull throbbing in pain. He looked up, and saw the Joker smiling down at him, tossing a crowbar between his hands._

_“The Bat’s gonna be here soon. Let's have some more fun before he does. Now, which one hurts more? This one?”_

 

_BASH!_

 

_“Or this one?”_

 

_Clang!_

 

_At that moment, Jason knew he was going to die._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we have connected it to what happens in the comics. At least I hoped I did. Let me know if anything doesn't fit so I can fix it.
> 
> Review and tell me what you think of the story so far!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Back! And here's a long chapter for you guys (long for me, anyway)
> 
> This is also the final flashback that I've written so far.

_ Zero could no longer see, that she had accepted a few months after the incident. _

_ She now had to wear a blindfold over her eyes because her father was too busy saving up for a possible eye transplant to buy her those expensive eye shades. _

_ Not that they knew the eye transplant would work. What with needing a proper donor and all. _

_ She remembers how the Joker brought her back, by tossing her in front of the black market entrance. She was forced to wander around the area, unable to see who or what she was walking by. Unable to tell when danger was near. _

_ She never felt so terrified in her life. _

_ She didn't know how she ended up in front of the doctor’s building. Either a good samaritan or pure luck had led her there, and she was suddenly enveloped in a tight hug. One she recognized, and one she returned with desperation and bloody tears. _

_ She had been there for about five months now, she guessed. She could feel the engravings of the clock, have them spell out the time for her. Know what time of the night it was when she woke up screaming from her nightmares. That was the only thing she could read.  _

_ Her father would try and read to her, as well as some of the patients if they were kind enough. And while she thanked them and listened fervently, she would always cry afterwards.  _

_ She couldn't help her father with his work like she used to. She couldn't tell the difference between a scalpel and a mirror, both were cold and metal. She couldn't go back to college either. She was presumed dead, and even then she couldn’t see to do anything with dangerous chemicals. _

_ The only thing she could do is accept it. So she did. _

_ Until he came back. _

_ At first she didn't know that it was him. She heard the door open, someone step in, and head for the desk. She hid behind the corner, knowing she wasn't supposed to show herself. It was a new rule for her, don't be seen by others, or risk having the same thing with the Joker happen again. _

_ But she couldn't ignore the voice she heard, nor the question he asked her father. _

_ “Do you know anyone by the name Zero?” _

_ She leapt from behind the corner, and she could hear the person turn to face her. _

_ “Ro-” she began, but was stopped by the person. _

_ “Yes it's me.” She could hear the snarkiness hidden underneath, and knew it to be true. _

_ She didn't know how to react. She wanted to cry in happiness for him surviving the evil clown, scream in anger for causing her pain, and just cry from shock. But she couldn't bring herself to any of those. She fell to her knees, the wood scraping against her palms as she tried to catch herself. She heard two pairs of footsteps run to her, but quickly lessened to one as she felt the familiar arms of her father grip her shoulders. She heard him ask her who this man was, but she found herself unable to answer. She held her hand out, and was surprised to feel another hold it. One that wasn't her father’s. It was tough and callused, but there was this spot right in the center of his hand that was smooth. She rubbed her thumb over that spot, while her fingers curled over the rough skin. _

_ That's when she began to cry. _

_ She felt her father try and grab her in another hug, but instead she pushed him away and embraced the man. He embraced her back. Her one ally through the worst time of her life. One that she wanted to call a friend. _

 

_ Robin. _

 

_ “It's...I'm here.” _

_ She knew he was going to say “it's okay.” They both knew it wasn't. So they both settled for the next thing. They were there, and they were alive. _

_ Once again she heard her father shout “who are you,” and pull her away from him. She heard Robin tell him a name, one she could tell was a false one, and tell of how they knew each other. When he brought up the Joker, she heard her father yell at him and tell him to get out, with which she retaliated with her own argument. _

_ “If you kick him out, then I go with him!” _

_ Needless to say, he got to stay for the night. _

_ Zero stayed up during the night with Robin, asking him where he's been, and what he's been doing. He spared no details, telling her of how he was now free and going to still do his vigilante work.  _

_ He also told her of how he would like her to work with him. _

_ She declined almost instantly. _

_ “I wouldn't be of any use to you. I can't see. I can't sleep. I'd only get in the way. I guess I really am nothing.” _

_ She didn't expect to get hit in the back of the head. It felt childish, not really hurting, but enough to get her attention. _

_ “Don't say that.” _

_ He didn't give her a reason, but it was his voice, that commanding tone, that made her slowly nod her head. After that she left him and fell asleep in her room, mulling over his words.  _

_ The next day he was gone. _

_ The day after he came back with a “gift.” _

_ She didn't know how to respond. He let her feel them, they were round and metallic, with a few strings of wire tracing away. There were two, both the exact same. _

_ “What are these?” She asked him. _

_ “Eyes.” _

_ She couldn't help but laugh. It was bitter and hollow, one that would send shudders down a person’s spine. She lightly shoved him, still laughing. But when he didn't join with his own dark chuckle, hers quickly died off. _

_ “Come on Robin, this isn't funny.” _

_ “I'm not joking.” _

_ “Of course you are.” _

_ “I'm not. These are bionic eyes, something that Wayne Enterprises was working on.”  _

_ “Robin, I'm not buying it.” Her voice was cracking, her emotions unable to take the insult he was throwing at her.  _

_ She didn't hear him respond, and she hoped that he had finally given up. But when she felt something held up to her ear, she could hear the familiar voice of Vicki Vale. _

_ “The staff of Wayne Enterprises says that no money or equipment was taken during the last night break-in, however a project prototype has been stolen. The first ever working pair of bionic eyes, meant to be a solution for the blind, have been taken. Apparently no video or audio footage was found-” _

_ Zero quickly pushed the phone away in disbelief. Robin didn't respond. _

_ “I-I don't believe you.”  _

_ She could hear him sigh. Not one of annoyance, but of desperation. _

_ “Please, you have to. I got these for you.” _

_ “Well why did you?! Why do you want to help me so badly?! All I ever did was pick at your wounds and feed you! Why are you doing this?! You can go and have a normal life-” _

_ “I can't, okay! I'm dead!” _

_ There was silence. _

_ “What?” Zero questioned. _

_ “I'm legally dead. I can't start a new life, I no longer exist. I'm alone.” _

_ She heard his voice break. He sniffed as well, untraceable to most, trying to hold in his sobbing. Zero relaxed, realizing his true intentions, and reached for his hand. After some difficulty of finding it, she found the hand, the palm cupped around the strange machinery, and took them.  _

_ “Let's find my dad. He can help.” _

_ It wasn't difficult to find him. He was always around the corner, ready to help his blind daughter. He said that the technology was very advanced, maybe made out of some old Reach technology. All Zero had to do was place them in her eyes, and they would right themselves and work instantly.  _

_ She had to find out where her hand was, then she had to place it in. It hurt, and when she finally placed it, she could feel it twisting, connecting to her nerves. _

_ Then suddenly, her vision turned on like a TV, the black suddenly splitting apart to reveal, and she could see out of her right eye. She saw her father, with shriveled gray hair, dark bags and dark eyes. She saw Robin, unmasked and with the same midnight black hair and emerald green eyes. The only new thing was the one white lock the fell in front of his face, one that he constantly pushed behind his ear, only for it to fall in his face again. _

_ She snatched the other eye from her father and shoved it into the empty socket. The adrenaline surging through her veins made her forget the temporary pain as the eye shifted into place.  _

_ She could see again. _

_ She felt the tears fall down her cheeks, for once the salty liquid not burning. She hugged her father, who returned it. She cried heavily into his shoulder. He cried too.  _

_ Once she let go of her father, she leapt off the table she sat on and hugged Robin. She felt him tense, and she could see him gasp in surprise. She didn't want to close her eyes, not wanting to see the darkness again. She wasn't surprised that she didn't need to, either. She took in every detail of his face, almost imagining the mask on him. He was different, in a way. It had been a year that had passed, yet he seemed far more mature. More muscular, more stiff, more serious. _

_ She felt his arms embrace her, but she could feel the uncertainty in his touch. Nevertheless she continued to hug him. _

_ “Thank you. I'll never be able to repay you for this. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She whispered through sobs. _

_ “I...don't…” He muttered. _

_ Once she let go, she turned to see her father staring at the two, and she could see the judging, the wariness of Robin. She tried to ease him with a warm smile, and failed. _

_ Later that night, she and Robin talked again. This time she agreed to help him. _

_ “And by the way, my name's Jason.” He told her.  _

_ “Why would you tell me that?” She asked. She didn't need to tell him that his enemies could now learn his identity through her. There were only so many Jason’s in Gotham. _

_ “Because I know you.”  _

_ I know you won't betray me. I know you'll stick by my side after everything. _

_ “Well then. In that case, my name's Rachel.”  _

_ *** _

_ She meant to tell her father the next day.  _

_ She didn't because of the two Joker thugs that held two guns to his chest.  _

_ “You're coming with us.” They ordered. _

_ “Like hell I will.” Her father retorted. Zero couldn't help but crack a smile at her father’s blunt retaliation. It faded quickly when they pressed the gun further into his clothing and skin. _

_ “You’re coming.” One of them growled out again. _

_ Her father still kept his ground. _

_ “I know you won't shoot me. If the Joker wanted me dead, I would be now.”  _

_ “After everything the Joker did for you. Got rid of other rivals, even brought your daughter back in good condition.” _

_ “Completely blind and emotionally scarred are not in my definition of good condition.” _

_ “Eh, you doctors’ definition of ‘good condition’ is Superman.” _

_ The silent thug leaned closer to the other, and whispered something in his ear. The previously chattering one smiled eerily. _

_ “How is your daughter by the way? Is she doing well?” He asked. _

_ She saw her father stiffen. _

_ “Don't you dare talk about her.”  _

_ The silent guard pushed her father out of the way, walking further into their home. Zero shriveled behind the corner, hoping to not be seen. She stepped back, but the creak in the old wood gave her away instantly. She blinked and the thug was there, grabbing her arm and pushing her forwards. She struggled against his grip, trying to pull away, but he only tightened his hold. _

_ “Found her.” He yelled as they turned the corner. Zero saw her father’s eyes widen in fear as he turned to see his captive daughter.  _

_ “Leave her alone! She has nothing to do with you!” Her father yelled, ignorant of the gun pointed at him. The thug ignored him, and traced a hand down her cheek. She reeled back, and he grabbed her jaw, the grip trapping her. _

_ “She looks a little different, doesn't she? A bit more...visual. I think the Joker might wanna see this improvement.” _

_ Zero wanted to desperately scream, but the grip literally held her tongue. She could only watch as the talking thug motioned to the silent one, and they began to pull her to the door. Her father tried to retaliate again, but he was more aware of the gun on his daughter than when it was on him. She still struggled against them, but it was useless. _

_ The gunshot and the falling thug, however, was much needed. _

_ Zero heard a spurt of liquid afterwards, and the thug with the gun fell in a dead heap, the hole in his head pouring blood on the floor. She looked as far back as she could, and saw Robin-Jason-standing at the base of the stairs with a gun of his own, now aimed at the other that held her in his grip. His expression seemed dead, almost like a mask was placed over his face. She had only ever seen him upset and in pain, but that reminded her that he was human. This stare, this look of a man that was no longer there, scared Zero beyond belief. _

_ The thug, however, didn't notice anything, and instead pulled out a knife and held it to Zero’s neck. Her father almost screamed in fear, begging for the thug to let her go, but Robin just stared.  _

_ No, it wasn’t Robin. This was Jason. Not Robin. _

_ “Drop the gun, or I slice her throat.” _

_ “Gunshot would be faster than that.” _

_ “How do ya know if you’d hit me and not her?’ he asked, shaking his hostage. _

_ “I just did a headshot on your friend from over here, and you’re underestimating me?” Jason scoffed. _

_ The thug was silent again, and Zero could feel his heartbeat quicken against her back. His arm slowly let go of her, and he pushed her to her father. She let him hug her, and watched the scene in front of her.  _

_ “Now you’re gonna go and tell your boss that there’s a new guy in town, and that this is my district. If he, or anyone that works for him, or anyone that even looks like him comes near my area, you’re gonna die. Whether it’s a painful one or not, depends on my mood.” Jason ordered.  _

_ The thug only nodded, and took one step back. Jason kept an eye on the thug, slowly lowering his gun with each step. When he was near the door, Jason put it back in his holster.  _

_ Suddenly, the thug leapt forward towards Zero and her father, knife ready to kill one of them. Jason tried to get his gun out as quickly as possible, but he would be too late to save both. _

_ Zero decided which one would survive. _

_ Without thinking, she pushed her father into the way of the thug, and screamed when she realized what she had done. The  knife sunk deep into his neck, but the noise was drowned out by the gunshot.  _

_ Even though the thug was the one that was shot, both fell dead to the ground. Her father was already dead, something she was thankful for and horrified by. The knife was stuck in his neck, the blood seeping around it and into his clothing. His eyes were wide and in fear, and Zero could see the disbelief and betrayal in his eyes. She fell to her knees and screamed, tears blurring her vision.  _

_ She heard Jason run to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her up. He hid her from the sight, pushing her head against his chest. For some reason, she was surprised to hear a heartbeat, surprised that this person was alive.  _

_ “I pushed him.” She felt like she was about to laugh. _

_ “Rachel, it's not your fault.” _

_ “I pushed my father to save myself. My father. Why did I do it?” _

_ Jason said nothing as he held her. He just led her out the door, away from her home. _

_ oooOOOooo _

Zero woke up with a gasp and was shocked to find herself alone in a giant room. She sat up and was prepared to scream, but remembered where she was.

Her heart still sank at the thought.

Following a familiar routine, she dressed into new clothes, washed her face until her nose began to peel, and brushed her teeth to the point where her gums bled. Once satisfied, she left and went to see if Jason was still there, not abandoning her on the middle of the night. 

Not only did she hear Jason’s voice, which was surprisingly calm, she heard the voice of the new Robin talk as well. It was small, nothing important or special. 

Zero hardly ever heard Jason so...peaceful. Even when talking with her, she could hear the slight guard in his voice, as if ready to fight back at any moment, as if prepared to be betrayed. But now, he sounded...safe.

She felt a small smile emerge.

“Well, that stitch should only be needed for a short time. Probably a week, maybe two.” She heard Jason tell Robin. 

“Okay. And do you mind if I ask you what was happening back there? Your ‘story’ doesn't exactly fit with...that.”

There was a pause

“Not my place to tell you.”

“Why?” The way Robin asked wasn't whiny or childish, but rather more concerned, which Zero was shocked to hear in his voice. 

“Last I checked, you don't give up on old friends.” 

She took this as her cue, and knocked on the door. 

She swore that they stopped breathing, they were so quiet. It was almost terrifying. She opened the door with a creak, and saw both of them standing up, staring at her as she came through the doorway. Robin was holding the hoodie he was given in one hand, and a pair of sunglasses in the other. The black stitches in his arm prominent against his pale skin. Zero looked away from him and to her partner, who was standing with arms crossed. He subconsciously took a few minor steps away from the other boy wonder, realizing how close they were standing together.

“Hey.” She said.

“Afternoon.” Robin replied. 

Jason didn't say anything, just nodded in acknowledgment. 

“I'm guessing you're gonna go and shoot some bastards?”

“That and scare some dealers.” Jason replied.

Robin made the right decision not to say anything, but Zero saw him tense and glance away when killing people was mentioned. He didn't look at Jason as he grabbed his helmet, guns, and other equipment. He tried to follow Jason out the door, past Zero, trying to keep his distance from both. But he was stopped by Zero’s hand, her grip strong on his shoulder. 

“Take care. Remember you're low on ammo, so go more stealth tonight.” She shouted out to Jason’s retreating figure, almost invisible in the dim sunlight.

“Sure thing, mom.” He replied.

“Bastard.”

“Bitch.” 

With that, he was gone.

Tim felt Zero let go of his shoulder, and then hold it out on front of him, as if asking for something. With a sigh, he reached into the pocket of his loaned pants and pulled out the small remote. He dropped it into her palm with a thud, and instantly she fiddled with the back and pried it open. 

The inside was empty.

Zero held out her hand again, and Tim reluctantly pulled out the small batteries he found.

“When did you get this?” She asked, shaking  the device in her hand.

“When I was helping you with your flashback.”

“Sneaky little fucker,” she chuckled, “have you tested it?”

“Yeah. The batteries are already dead. Not a great power source.”

“Hey, it scared you shitless. Plus, we only meant for it to be used once.”

She could see the small shudder that traveled up his back as he realized her implications. She stepped to the side and leaned against the doorway, giving him a look of boredom. Tim stood there, eyes darting from her to whatever else he could look at.

“You know you can run out of here.” She told him.

“What?”

“Yeah. Jason never bothered teaching me self-defense, only hardcore parkour. And you're more athletic than me, we haven't hurt you in any way...apart from some emotional trauma.”

He glared at her at that last part.

“Anyway, yeah. You're pretty much free to go. And don't worry about us coming after you. Jason might try, but I know he won't kill you...probably.”

As those words reverberated in the empty air, Zero continued to lean to the side, waiting for him to run. But when he continued to stand there, she stood back up and couldn't help but gawk.

“Why aren't you running?”

The new Robin didn't answer, pondering for the right response.

“I guess...it's because you asked me to save Jason, and I still need to. Not gonna accomplish that by running away. Besides, he's my brother.”

Zero listened, and smiled.

“And they say Stockholm Syndrome isn't a real thing.”

This threw Robin, and he couldn't help but step back and look at her in surprise.

“What?!”

“Come on,” she said as she grabbed his hand. “Let's finish this Patty Hearst transformation. You're gonna help me make grenades and some Kryptonite-R.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People don't believe that Stockholm Syndrome is a real thing, which is bullshit. It's not even listed in the DSM 5.
> 
> Tell me what you think of the story. What you think of the characters, their relationships, and the story so far.
> 
> Would you guys like me to write more flashbacks? Or do you want the story to be plot driven from now?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During the chaos that is midterms and a report about a yearlong internship, I want to give you guys a small chapter.

Tim never thought that he would find himself scraping rust into little plastic jars.

“How exactly does this help? I feel like you're just trying to distract me.” He yelled over the high metallic noise. It grated against his ears, and more than once he grounded his teeth in pain.

“Iron oxide, aka rust, is needed for thermite grenades.”

“And...how do you know how to make thermite, as well as make it into a grenade?” He asked skeptically.

“A partially finished degree in chemistry, time to yourself, and Google.”

“And you know this works?”

“Hell yeah. Goes through 4 inches of solid steel. Made people in tanks shit their pants every time.”

Tim's eyes widened. “When have you ever gone against a tank?!”

“You'd be surprised by what truly goes on underneath Gotham. Or any seedy city”

"You think I don't?" he retorted.

"Well you've never been up a tank, so not really."

Zero was doing something completely different. She was melting kryptonite in a pan, the irradiated material popping like grease. When she seemed satisfied, she would pour it into a boiling flask, a burner with a small flame going on underneath to keep it from solidifying.

Tim wanted desperately to ask what she was doing, but he knew she wouldn't answer.

“When you think you've collected enough, start grinding it into a powder. There's a blender over here you can use.” She yelled over her shoulder,

And so the day went on, with the two performing their separate activities. When Tim had come over to retrieve the rolling pin, he glanced at her project.

“Kryptonite-R. Turns out combining two alien technologies with a little human interference creates an element that can permanently power anything, and can interfere with any alien technology.” She told him. She reached under the table, pulling up a small case, and opened it to reveal a chunk of glowing blue metal. It took Tim less than a second to realize that was Reach metal.

Taking a knife that was similar to Jason’s, she cut through the metal and began to melt them as well. After it became a thick liquid, she poured that into flask with a flame underneath, this one a deep blue instead of a dull orange like the other.

“You know Kryptonite has an incredibly low melting point. Not as low as mercury, which is -39 degrees Fahrenheit, but still pretty damn low.”

“I could tell by the fact that you melted it in a pan.” Tim replied.

Zero ignored him and began the process of reacting. Tim wanted desperately to watch, but she quickly shoved him away and towards the blender. She also handed him a pair of earplugs.

“Metal on metal is not a nice sound. Save your ears.” She informed him.

Taking the earplugs and putting them in, he poured the rust into the blender and put it on medium speed. The metal screeched as it was turned into a powder, and he was grateful for the earplugs.

When it was done he poured the fine substance back into the jars. He looked up and easily caught the small box of aluminum foil that was tossed at his head.

“Next rip that up into little strings and blend it, too. Once you’re done with that, pour it into those little jars. Same with the copper. The ratio of rust to aluminum should be eight to three grams. After that, tie some mag-wire around the top. Should be at your right.” She told him. Turning a few taps, she combined and formed together her new element.

Tim did as he was told, pouring the exact amount into each separate jar, both rust and aluminum, then tied the wire around the top. Once finished, he took a small step back to look at his work.

“That’s underwhelming.”

He heard Zero chuckle.

“It definitely looks like it. But trust me, one quarter-size of that stuff can melt through an entire truck and the ground it was on. And it’s legal.”

Tim could see her body was relaxed, her posture more limp and informal. He recognized it from fellow members of the Young Justice, when they had accepted him as the new Robin, from when Batman had finally accepted him as well. So he decided to push his luck. With trust comes information.

“So, you know how to jump around Gotham? Do you have a grappling hook he gave you as a birthday present?”

“Nah. I had to get one off of Ebay.”

“Well that’s not a way to treat a friend.”

Then she laughed. It caught Tim off guard, but he made sure that it didn’t show.

“Trust me when I say I’m not a friend. I’m more of a...crutch, really. Although his guns have been taking even that position away from me.”

Her stance began to wilt as she curled into herself. Tim could visibly see her eyes sadden as they looked down at her work.

“His only friends were the ones in the Young Justice team, and even then they didn’t get along well. Can’t blame them, though. A reckless little teenager that smokes and acts like he hates everyone. But that doesn’t mean that they didn’t try. And eventually, they broke some of his walls. They became people he could trust, rely on, care about.”

There was silence. Tim didn't dare to interrupt it.

“Then those ‘friends’ never came to rescue him. He died thinking he was alone. Then when he came back, those same old pals were now hanging out with another Robin. A replacement. The final push that convinced him he was alone from the start, and will always be.”

She stared at him, and Tim could feel the accusation beh nd it. He couldn’t help but agree with her. Then she returned to her work. She would chip off pieces of the new and now hardened substance, the Kryptonite-R, and place it in a small basket to the side. Tim watched as she continued her work, unable to say anything.

 

oooOOOooo

 

Meanwhile there was a trade going on underneath Gotham. A trade between a masked man and the keeper Mcullough.

McCullough wasn't someone that would spark suspicion on the everyday street. Normal brown hair, normal brown eyes with glasses. The only thing not normal about him was the tattoo on his inner wrist, designed to look like the underground symbol of trades, black market and otherwise. All he would have to do was show it to the right person, and he could get things you wouldn't find at your local Walmart.

Like Reach Metal, for example.

He played with the credit card in his hand, watching some of the dried blood flicker in the dull lighting. He wondered who was killed to get this? Doesn't matter, it's still money. Just needs to go through the right people, and it'd be cash in his hand. And the police wouldn't notice a damn thing.

Although, it isn't the the police he should be worrying about.

He didn't hear it, not a single creak or swish.

But he felt it. The punch across his jaw that knocked him to the ground, the leg on his back that pushed him to the ground as he twisted his head to see his attacker.

“B-Batgirl!” He whimpered.

“ _Who do you sell to?”_  He heard her say. It was not a human voice, it was broken and robotic, which made her more terrifying.

“Wh-what?!”

 _“WHO DO YOU SELL TO?!”_ She shouted, and took his left arm and pulled it up, instantly dislocating the joint. Mcullough screamed for a long time.

“I sell to whoever fucking wants it!” He cried out, tears blurring his vision.

There was silence. Mcullough felt the vigilante grab his other arm, pulling it up until it bega to hurt.

“No! Please don’t Please!” He sputtered out.

“ _Do you have a list?”_ He heard the robotic voice reply.

“Yes, yes yes! I have a phone with all of their numbers. You can use them to locate! It’s in my pocket! Just please don’t!”

There was silence. The last thing Mcullough remembered was something colliding with his head, then he fell unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> 1) yes, that is a way for you to make thermite. And yes, it's legal in the U.S. Photographers use it all the time in pictures
> 
> 2) For those readers who will inevitably be all: "why is Tim helping her? That's unrealistic." This is a fix based off of a comic series where a guy in tights and his fourteen year old sidekick fight crime at night, with their main enemy being a guy with clown makeup permanently imbued into his skin. I don't even need to bring up the Young Justice. And him helping out is more plausible than you could think. I did make a joke about Stockholm Syndrome last chapter, but it could be more than just a small pun in the series.
> 
> 3) To make life easier for me, I gave Cassandra a "voice." The suit talks for her, like a more advanced machine for paralyzed people or people with aphasia that help them speak.
> 
> 4) I won't be able to update for awhile. Not until next year or maybe even a month after. I had this chapter in advance, but now I caught up to myself.
> 
> Tell me what you think of the story so far! I want to know if you enjoy it or feel like it needs some work. Let me know if there is anything that should be fixed!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE RETURNED!
> 
> Ladies and Gentleman and those who have yet to decide, I have returned!
> 
> Sorry it took so long, my whole life has just been a shit show of school, internships and family drama, and I thank all of you who have waited.
> 
> Here's the chapter.

“What is that?” Tim asked.

“It’s your mask.” Zero told him, holding it up. It was a pure white mask, with no detail whatsoever other than a curved beak just below the carved out eyes. It almost looked like an owl.

“How is this my mask, and where on earth did you get this?”

“Well, someone was selling it in the market, I thought it looked cool, and I wanted it in case Jason ever invited me to one of his missions.”

“And did he ever?”

“No.” She looked to her right, avoiding his gaze as she bit her lower lip.

“And you think me, the person he probably hates the most in this entire world other than Batman, has a better chance than you?”

“...yes.”

“Great logic.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Tim sighed and pressed his index and thumb into the corners of his eyes. He didn't know where this plan even came from. All he knew was that he was conspiring with Zero to have Jason take him on the midnight raid.

Why? He didn't know.

How? He didn't know.

Did he have a death wish of some sort? He didn't know. Most likely.

“You can wear the Robin outfit underneath the clothes, to give you some extra protection.”

Tim just nodded, taking the suit in his hands. He couldn’t help but feel comforted by the familiar sensation of the graphene fabric against his skin, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over it.

He hid behind a wall and changed, slipping the loaned clothes over the suit. He felt less vulnerable, not so powerless to the former Robin. He didn’t put on the cape, instead shoving it into a small bag.

And so he and Zero waited the rest of the day, waited for Jason to wake up and make his preparations for tonight's raid on the traitor drug lords.

Tim cannot believe he agreed to this.

And neither can Jason.

“Fuck no.” Was all he said when Zero proposed the idea. And he walked into her room, grabbing whatever he could that would explode, maim or hurt anyone in any way.

Zero grabbed a belt of Thermite she made out of duct tape and and an old seat belt, and handed it to Tim. He just held it as far away from himself as possible.

That only set Jason’s mind further.

“Fuck no.”

Zero then handed TIm the mask, which he didn’t want to put on. This time Jason only sighed.

“Why do you want me to take him?” He asked, defeat clear in his voice.

“Just in case this goes awry, you can have someone drag you back.”

“There’s no reason why he should help. And the Bat’s on my trail now! He even knows that I know his identity. So he’s probably searching for my ass even more now. Gives the kid even more of a chance of escaping.”

Tim agreed with him, wholeheartedly.

Unfortunately Zero did not. She tossed him the remote, the broken item still deceiving to the unknowing eye. Jason caught it with ease. He aimed the device to Tim, who prepared to act like he was suffocating.

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, he didn’t have to.

The speeding heart, the short breathing, the fuzzy darkness all came and went.

 _Why is it working?! Why is it working?!_ He thought. All he had to do was look up, and see the expression on Zero’s face.

It said _I’m sorry._

His own said _unforgiven._

“You can off him yourself should the need arise. Plus, he doesn’t have any weapons besides thermite, which is useless without any flame to light it up. You have the guns.”  She told Hood, looking away from the Boy Wonder.

Tim hated this. So much.

She tossed Jason the lighter she carried, and only she carried, to try and stop him from smoking and with little success. He caught it with the same ease.

Jason just sighed and held his helmet in his hands, looking at the empty eyes as they looked back.

“...let me see the mask.”

Tim slowly put it on, feeling the cool material press against his face. Jason chuckled at the look.

“Kinda fitting for Robin to be wearing a bird mask.”

He walked by Tim and patted his shoulder.

“Come on Patty Hearst.”

“Zero already used that joke!” He retorted.

“Don’t give a fuck.” Jason laughed.

***

Tim had always wanted to ride a motorcycle.

But he did not want to ride a motorcycle as a prisoner with his supposed-to-be dead idol at near breakneck speeds with a bag of guns, dangerous chemicals and other various objects slung across his shoulder and back.

That definitely was not something he thought remotely possible to achieve.

He just held on as tightly as he could, hoping he wouldn't fall off and die. Jason would just ignore his crushing grips and go faster to scare him even more. Tim was pretty sure that Jason was toying with him as he maneuvered around cars and other, much bigger vehicles.

When they finally reached their destination, or rather two miles away, Tim got off as quick as he could, kneeling on the ground.

“You jump hundreds of feet in the air with only a string for a tether.” Jason told him. Tim could swear he was smiling under the damn helmet.

“Lead the way.” Was all he muttered.

“Why’re you helping me, again? You have no reason to help the man/brother who kidnapped you.” He said, holding up the small remote in a toying manner

Tim just glared.

“Unless of course you really are suffering from Stockholm. If you are, that is just plain wrong. We are technically related. And you DO know it’s illegal for adopted siblings to get married. Don’t act clueless.”

Tim’s eyes grew wide with shock, before putting the mask on to coverhis expression.

“Gross! I know that, you asshole! Plus, I don’t swing that way!” He almost yelled.

He could hear Jason chuckle, then he pulled out a grappling hook.

“I don’t judge. Nothing wrong with it.”

He launched his hook and made it too the rooftop. Tim pulled out his and and followed.

No way was he suffering Stockholm. Right?

It felt good to be running at night. Tim missed the feeling of the pull of gravity as he lept off, only to defy death at the last second and swing like a child. He was so caught up in the moment that he almost would veer off course.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the supposed meeting place, an old warehouse. The only proof that someone was in there was a few guards patrolling around the building, up and down the fire escape, and even a few on the roof.

“That’s all they got?” Jason muttered, before he swung onto the roof of the building, hiding behind a vent. Tim followed.

The guard didn’t even know what hit him. Jason snuck up and cracked his neck with a simple twist, the act quick and supposedly painless. Tim just stared in shock, as Jason caught the body and pulled it back behind the vent.

“You killed him.” He muttered.

“Yeah.” Jason muttered, pulling out a knife and lifting the arm of the dead man. With three hacks he detached the limb of the body, splattering blood over his and Tim’s clothes.

“What the fuck?” Tim whispered. He was in shock. Not shock, like someone who experienced something tragic, like experiencing a car accident or witnessing a murder, Tim had seen too many of those to be affected. But he was just… surprised.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Jason just looked up at him, then chopped off the other arm.

“Hold onto this.” Jason told him, tossing one of the limbs. Tim caught it, and dropped it. Jason didn’t say anything and walked away, towards the other guard on the roof. Tim snuck around the vent, watching as the Jason lifted the dismembered arm and shot the guard straight in the head, the muscle and tissue silencing the bang.

Tim couldn’t help but be impressed. And revolted for being so.

He picked up the arm and followed. Jason leant over the roof of the building, and shot the men on the ground. Perfect headshots. Once he was satisfied, he threw the arm to the ground and took the other from Tim’s grasp.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” Tim whispered.

“They won’t be back to ruin another’s life.”

“And they won’t be back to change their own. And you don’t know if they were bad people.”

“Then why would they be helping out drug lords if they weren’t ‘bad people?’”

“Need to help families, need the money.”

“Then they should have chosen a better way to get it.”

There was silence, and Jason thought he had won the argument until Tim mumbled a single sentence.

“Says the guy who joined a gang to earn money to help his mom.”

Jason didn’t say anything as he took out the last guards on the ground. They dropped like flies, and for once he felt the slightest pang of sympathy in his stomach as Tim’s words sank in.

But he crushed that pang and moved on. Tim followed.

“I don’t know what Zero was talking about. You ain’t doing jack shit.”

Hood could tell that the new Robin was thinking, strategizing a way.

“Can I have the bag?”

Hood removed said pack from his shoulders and tossed it to the Robin, who caught it and stumbled from the unexpected weight.

Time swore he could hear Jason sigh in disappointment.

“You’re the one that has the helmet and x-ray vision, you tell me where the traders are talking, sitting, whatever they’re doing. Don’t care.”

Jason just walked to a spot and pointed down. Tim nodded, and fished out the belt with the thermite bottles, as well as the small spool of magnesium ore. He would pull out an arm's-length, wrap it around the spherical glass, then pull out another and do the same thing. It wasn’t long until he had a long, very flammable rope at the ready.

“Draw me out a circle around them.” Tim ordered.

“You don’t tell me what to fucking do.” Hood warned. Nevertheless, he walked out a small circle, which Tim followed with the makeshift weapon.

“How is this supposed to help?”

“You’ll see.” He said. Tim searched through the bag again, and came out with the lighter.

“You go do what you want. I want you to signal me for when I should melt this out.”

“And what is it supposed to do?”

“Only make a moat of liquid metal and trap your targets.” Tim muttered.

Jason thought about it...

Yeah, it could work. Maybe.

“Light it up.” Hood muttered. He swore that the kid was smiling underneath that shitty mask.

It took three flicks, but soon the flame burst from the metal box, and Tim placed it next to the wire.

The reaction was spontaneous. Suddenly there was a massive burst of flame, and the two Robins fell back in surprise. Sparks leapt everywhere,melting little bullet-like holes through the roof. It quickly became a circle, melting through the roof in sparks and bursts.

“It burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire.” He heard Hood mutter.

It wasn’t long until the fire died out, and Tim could see the circle of metal, the remnant, falling down. He heard it smash against the ground with a loud clang, and heard people begin to scream.

“I think the circle of steel is more deadly.” He muttered under his own breath.

He knew Hood had heard him.

“You stay up here. Keep an eye out for anyone who may want to fuck us over.” He ordered the new Robin, pulling out an ak47 from the bag. The sight of the gun made Tim’s body stiffen, subconsciously prepared to defend himself.

Hood just jumped down into the hole, careful to not hit the still-melting edges.

Tim crawled to the edge, watching the deadly affair between the Red Hood and the traitor dealers through the eyes of the mask. He realised that he could hear the thin material of the roof reflect his breathing back to his ears, a rhythmic noise that nearly drowned out the shouts of the people trapped in the molten metal lake.

“You're… insane!”

“Yeah, li… ak47.”

He wondered how long it would take. He had already ran out of alphabets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try and update another as soon as possible, but it may have a few typos and errors, just an fyi.
> 
> Also a little Talon reference for all of you.
> 
> Quick question, would any of you be interested in having me write a Bayonetta fic? The second one is one of my favorites of all time, and I was think that, after all of this is over, to write Bayonetta 2 from Loki's point of view (hey, I liked the little asshole).
> 
> Thanks again for waiting so patiently! Let me know what you think!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short, but I wanted to get something out to you guys.

Batgirl was nowhere to be seen.

 _Probably on an undercover mission, something like that. Black Skull has been acting up,_ Dick thought, using his palm to rub away any crust at the corners of his eyes.

Nightwing was a tired man.

Well, he’s always been tired. But now, searching for his younger brother, and having to cover for his missing vigilante sister was taking even more of a toll on his exhausted mind. He’s surprised he hasn’t started hallucinating yet.

But he swore that the computer keys were swirling around as he typed them in, unlocking the bug that hacked into Blüdhaven and Gotham City’s security cameras.

He wished that the Young Justice team could help them out with this. But, due to Batman’s stubborn and prideful wishes, it was just the Wayne family that defended the most crime ridden city in the country.

“I swear, that man won’t let anyone help even if there was a zombie outbreak, and we were all turned. Including him! He'd try to fix it with his zombie brain first before letting Superman put a toe in the Gotham Bay. Not that anyone should do that, unless they want mutant children,” he mumbled to himself in boredom.

 

Not much was happening, much to the chagrin of the vigilante. It gets kind of lonely sometimes.

 

...Okay, most of the time.

 

That’s one thing that Dick loved about Tim. He would randomly visit during patrol, keeping the oldest Boy Wonder company. Sometimes he would even bring food for those long nights, the food still warm from being cooked. He remembered when he found out how Tim got the food at such a late hour...

_oooOOOooo_

 

_“You’re ordering IN costume?” Dick asked._

_“Yup.” Was all Tim said. They were looking down at a small food truck, the colorful labels standing out among the black and gray of the street. A lot of them were saying in different ways how good their food was totally not unhealthy grease._

_“Wouldn’t that be… a bit weird?”_

_“Nah, not really. He owes me a favor. I managed to stop a bunch of thugs from harassing him and his family, and he likes to repay me with free food.” He said nonchalantly._

_Dick just shrugged and followed._

_Never had he seen a grown man become so happy at the sight of them. He was literally beaming as he handed the paper bag to the Boy Wonder, and waved goodbye as they shot back onto the roof and opened up the_

_“Alfred won’t appreciate such unhealthy food.” Dick advised._

_“Says the guy who eats takeout every night since he can’t cook.” Tim muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Dick to hear._

_He just remained silent and took the burger that was offered to him._

 

_oooOOOooo_

 

Dick woke up to someone grabbing his shoulder.

Immediately he reacted, grabbing the hand of his attacker and elbow them in the stomach. Then he pulled on their shoulders and leapt over them, landing behind them and ready to hit with 50,000 volts of electricity, but relaxed when he saw who it was.

“Hey, Bruce.”

His old guardian turned around to face him, a stoic look on his face.

“You need practice.”

Dick laughed at that, crossing his arms.

“What’re you talking about? I had you at my mercy.”

All Batman did was hold up a batarang and pull it up, and Dick fell to the ground, his feet pulled out from under him.

His tied feet.

He swore he saw Batman smile. Maybe grin? Just a little?

Dick just pulled at the string, and Batman let the weapon fall to the ground. As his ward slowly undid the tangle around his legs, the dark knight sat down at the computer, and began to work. First he made sure that Poison Ivy had safely made it to Arkham, as well as checking on the four men that were trapped under her control, who were now receiving proper medical treatment.

Then once he was satisfied with that, he pulled up lists of dealers. Specifically, Reach dealers.

“So, who do you think it is?” He heard Dick ask behind him.

None of the ones on the imprisoned list really caught his attention. He knew where they were. Most of them weren’t big enough dealers to pull any strings from their cell. The released ones, he visited tonight. Most of them were just asleep, or working. A few even had a family, or were studying for a degree.

A few others were again on the imprisoned list.

The list of suspects were the ones that intrigued him the most. Many were missing, going underground along with their work. A few were proven to be “innocent,” and were just running around freely.

Batman sighed as he watched name after name scroll up, to be replaced with another and another and another. Even with Nightwing’s help, as well as Batgirl’s (wherever she was), it would take weeks to find and interrogate each and every one.

He placed his head in his hands, feeling the negative effects of a two hour sleep finally reaching him. His eyes felt heavy and his chest weighed to the ground, but nevertheless he continued to hold them up with the strength of his will.

“None of them are independent dealers, they all get it from one source, which we both agree is probably  Black Mask. But we need to find the one who deals to Hood, which means that it’s one who deals under the business table.”

“I’m guessing that means we’re gonna have a raid?”

“Yes, a raid.”

A raid of the source, catch as many dealers as they could, question every single one of them until somebody talks or the police arrive, usually the former. Batman never really cared for raids, for it usually took up to much time, and a few would always get away and warn others, making the search for crime harder from days to weeks. He even hated the name that Jason had given to it.

RAIDS.

The name made it sound like they were a gang. But he found himself keeping it, and it wasn't long until Dick began to use the term, trying to divert the term away from his lost step-brother for reasons that seemed both selfish and selfless.

Suddenly, derailing Bruce's train of thought, a loud, high pitched beep came from his computer. He looked up to see a name, Kevin Mcullough, shift on the screen from suspects list to the imprisoned.

Immediately he brought the person up, opening the man’s file. There was not much on the (originally) supposed dealer. He was just a man straight out of high school, working in his father’s car shop at the edge of Gotham. Apparently the pay was not as good enough as illegal metal.

That’s when the alarm went off.

Immediately the computer revealed the location,the exact coordinates flashing in red, and Batman ran to the vehicle.

“What’s happening?” Nightwing asked, following him to the vehicles.

“There’s been an attack in the warehouse district.”

Batman leapt into the batmobile, the hood shutting over him. Nightwing followed, getting on the motorcycle and placing the helmet over his head. He could hear the static of the comms echo of the plastic, and Batman’s broken voice reached through.

“They say it’s an attack by the Red Hood. And he’s got a partner with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The series has had a bit of a lull in the last few chapters, but I promise it'll pick up in the next two chapters. Let me know what you think of it so far!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there's any errors, I just finished this an hour ago (I've been too busy playing the new God of War).

Tim missed fighting. It was the one reason why he went days without sleep. To save innocents, prevent crimes.

And so, with his back turned against the Hood, who had his own problems, he faced off against Although he didn’t have his bo staff, he managed to create a makeshift weapon out of a metal table leg, and used it to daze and beat back any attackers.

It didn’t take long for the “discussion” between Hood and the dealers to turn into an all out gun and fist fight, if anything he expected it to start sooner.

Who knew that the Red Hood could manage to stay civilized for a whole ten minutes?

He managed to avoid the sudden swing of a fist at his jaw, retaliating with a hit to the back of the man’s head with his weapon. The gunshots were loud in Tim’s ears, a disadvantage in the ensuing fight, along with the slippery, worn out shoes instead of his Robin boots. He had already been hit more times than normal, and he could feel some of them bruising. But nevertheless he ignored them and tried to fight his best. Hood was taking down at least two at a time.

The guns helped, much to the young vigilante’s chagrin.

Tim still continued to knock them out. He stood by his morals, even when it was five to one.

It wasn’t long until all of them were down.

All but one, who was staring at the barrel of the Red Hood’s pistol. TIm could only watch as the man pleaded for his life.

“Please! I’ll tell everyone about you, about your power! Please!” The man squealed.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“Thanks, buddy, but I don’t need the assistance..” Jason said, raising the gun at the man.

“NO!” Tim shouted, grabbing onto his partner’s arm.

“What? You’ve left plenty alive, and he’s served his purpose.” Hood asked, shaking the deadly weapon at the cowering man.

Tim hated that. How indifferent he was, how pointless, how trivial he saw it. He says he’s cleaning up the city, the world of criminals, but if anything he’s creating more. More who want to take his place, to become him, to kill him themselves. He was the one that was creating crime, not solving it.

“That’s not the answer! You don’t know who he is!”

“Sure I do. He’s a thug for Black Skull. The less the better.”

Tim suddenly had an idea. It was a gamble, but one he was willing to take.

“Remember what I said? On the roof?” Tim dared to say.

For the longest time, there was no word said, no noise made. Tim continued to hold onto the Red Hood’s shoulder, feebly trying to hold it back and praying he made the right choice.

“Fine.” Hood muttered. He flipped the gun in his hand, holding the barrel tightly as the butt was brought down upon the man’s head. Instantly he flopped to the ground, unconscious.

Tim had to give Jason credit, he was _strong_.

“Stop! This ends now!” The two suddenly heard behind them.

The two vigilantes turned around, and both felt a sink in their chest at the new adversary.

 _Shit, why is HE here_ , Hood thought.

 _Shit, I’m gonna get my ass kicked by my brother,_ Tim thought/whined.

It was of course Nightwing who, in Dick Grayson fashion, had decided to give away the element of surprise. He stood right in the open, the lights hitting him in every possible way.

“Well, seems like the sex toy’s decided to make a visit. Sorry, but it seems like you might’ve been a bit late for your booty call.”

“I don’t really call myself late, just fashionably so.” Nightwing teased back ( _very badly, not him at all_ , Tim thought). But underneath the childish facade, Tim could see the horror at seeing all of these dead men.

If only he could express at that moment how he felt too.

But instead, he was confused. Confused on how Nightwing was there, of all the vigilantes, and how he so easily gave away his position to make jokes. Granted, he’s done it before, but not against someone with a gun. Except for that one time that Tim would like to forget. One of his first missions, where he had to hang upside down and wait for Nightwing to lure the enemy underneath him. He grew disoriented and missed his target completely.

Oh.

_Oh._

“Above!” Tim shouted.

Hood barely had enough time to dodge Bruce as he fell from the shadows. Tim swore he heard Bruce mutter dammit, and snickered inwardly.

The fight was almost instantaneous. Hood fought Batman, and Robin fought Nightwing. Well, not really fought. Tim only defended himself, not wanting to hurt his brother in any way. But of course, his brother was stronger and more flexible, and was able to break his defense many times, until he was knocked down onto the ground. Nightwing then tried to lock his arms, to subdue the younger vigilante, but Tim twisted and turned, until he was on top of Nightwing’s back, his legs wrapped around one arm and trying to stop the other from clawing at his face. However the eldest of the Robin’s managed to hook one finger underneath the borrowed mask, and pulled.

The string snapped instantly.

 _Stupid fucking flimsy piece of shit_ , Tim thought.

He can see why the Hood curse so much.

It actually felt pretty good.

Nightwing then fell forward, rolling Tim onto the floor and knocking the air out of him. But he held onto his arm, twisting it into a very wrong angle. Tim swore he heard a pop from his shoulder, one that spread pain throughout his entire arm. He sat up and clutched his shoulder, silently crying in pain. He forgot that he didn’t have the mask on anymore.

“Ti-...Robin?” Nightwing muttered, his hands dropping the mask. It clattered onto the floor. Tim didn’t know what to do. He only looked up at his brother, at a loss for words.

That’s when Hood appeared out of nowhere and wrapped an arm around Tim’s neck, placing the pistol to his temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any God Of War fans, I'm posting the first chapter of a little side-fan-project later tonight if you're interested.
> 
> Comment and let me know what you think!


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